Curtain Call
by peachez18
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a coldhearted spy. A rescue mission to save Hermione turns Draco’s life upside down: it gains him a permanent status in the Order, but messes up his image in front of the Dark Lord. Now, he’s got to deal with a household of suspicious Weas
1. The Escape

**A/N: Hi! I'm elixirgurl, 16, and this is the first adventure/romance fanfic I'm going to put up here on fanfiction. Sneak preview:**

**Hermione is in the hands of the deatheaters and gets saved by Draco, who's a spy for the Order. but when his act gets caught, his whole life turns upside down and he falls prey to the fury of the Dark Lord. Anyway, consequences have to be dealt with, some time or the other. So, Draco, being a deatheater, ultimately is left with just two choices: to live with the Order and fight for the good side and then, perish with the fall of the Dark Lord, or to return to the dark side to die…**

**Either way, its curtain call for him…**

**During his stay at the Order headquarters, he wins the concern of the most unlikely person in the world who sees him in a different light. With her sympathy and understanding, could he possibly turn the world around and fight the war that wages in and around him?**

**Your average adventure story, but I promise you will never regret reading it!**

**People, this is 'Curtain Call'!**

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Chapter – 1: The Escape

Wind wisped through Draco's silky blonde hair as he made it through the forest of Czars. Night time whispers and cries were heard from all around: the blackness of trees and wood sent ominous creaks through them. The dying gust blew over dry leaves and weeds, causing them to rustle and roam the forest floor…

Every now and then, he'd would look back to see if he was being followed, for it was easy to be traced now that he was so deep into their domain. But the only thing that reached his ears was the whispering of trees and sounds of a nighttime forest. He scanned the layers of shadows, the dark patches between barks and the single pathway of moonlight through which he'd walked, then resumed his journey to the Circle, his senses, alert and alive to the slightest sign of movement.

The face of the rich king shone brighter than ever with the moonlight washing over him, commanding the forest to show him the way to his greatest treasure….

**(xxx)**

"I _order_ you to get me out of this place-right now! THIS VERY INSTANT, you _dummies_!!!" shrieked Hermione Granger from behind the bars of her enclosed cell. Her cheeks were red from shouting atrocities at her capturers and not soon after, her throat was parched dry.

_Oh bother_, she thought meekly, gripping the bars and resting her head against their metal surface, now she wouldn't even have a _voice_ to declare her distress.

The two men in cloaks guarding her cell stopped conversing with each other and looked at her with annoyance. One of them, a thin gold-toothed wizard in his early thirties, walked up to her cell and peered into her face with squinted eyes. "yer-whats yer name again, missy?" spat the wizard. His teeth made a grinding sort of sound at the utterance and Hermione suspected from the stench of his breath that he'd been chewing on tobacco.

"Hermione Granger, as I've already told you-" she told him impatiently, glaring through the iron bars.

"Well, ain't that a _pretty _name, Grant?" he laughed, turning to the other figure, who returned a smirk.

"Why do you say that?" the girl asked him, obviously irritated by their behavior. "Is yours something like PumkinHead Pimp?"

Had the words just left her mouth, she regretted saying them, for the gold-toothed wizard turned sharply to her with a mad gleam in his eyes. Before she could draw back, he'd grabbed the amulet dangling from her chain and pulled her as close to the bars as possible.

She let out a tiny gasp as her head hit its iron surface, feeling pain and pressure spread over her entire body.

"Not short of _pride,_ are you, young missy?" the wizard rasped into her ears. "Why, I say, you had better keep a watch on that mouth of yours, or you'd be sitting in this cell – _naked _-" he grinded the last word between his teeth and let go of the amulet.

Hermione instantly moved back, replacing the fear unveiled in her eyes with defiance. The men had been laughing. And she felt all traces of dignity abandon her at the given time….

Whoever these men were, she detested them. Detested them with a passion. She had been quite sure they were not death eaters – death eaters were not so _stupid_…

"I'm _afraid_ she will _not_ be doing that," said a third voice. "And had you been so unfortunate to live to see that day, you'd have only ended up with your eyes poked or a blinding margarine."

Hermione's eyes darted from the men to the source the voice, to be met by cold grey ones….she remembered those _eyes _from somewhere…her heart took a wild leap within her ribcage as she saw the wizard in black robes. He was tall and elegantly dressed, strands of silky blonde hair falling over his forehead and he wore that trademark smirk…

"Malfoy," she said his name in a single breath, hatred and loathing rising up in her like a tumultus wave.

He nodded in acknowledgement, a smirk gracing his lips.

"And who be _ye_-?" asked the gold-toothed wizard, looking Draco up and down with a beady eye.

He came and stood in front of the blonde, scrutinizing every bit of his appearance with a hint of awe. The other man watched him too, alert with the stiffness of a stick.

"Draco Malfoy, heir to the Rising throne as you must know, presently in charge of the prisoner in cell no.1548 by the command of the Dark Lord," replied Draco coolly, looking down at his filed nails.

"_Ye don say_…" the wizard searched his face for any hint of dishonesty. "Maybe – but do you have proof of your allegiance that you can produce at the moment? I wouldn't have a liar come up to me and claim a prisoner to my face-"

Draco raised his eyebrows at him, then produced a roll of parchment from the pockets of his robes. The man snatched it away and went over to Grant to read its content, his expression full of uncertainty.

Draco looked down at the girl in the cell and he almost laughed out of pity: it appeared that she'd been forsaken of all dignity and pride, and the shallow look in her eyes could only mean they'd taught her a lesson. Mirth at watching the young Gryffindor ground in her sorrows dawned upon his face unrestricted by cause or time…she was a tad bit malnourished, he could tell by the hollow structure of her cheeks and the frailty of her limbs hanging by her sides. The brown mangled tresses were messed up and her flimsy robe sported dirt and grime...

"Yes, I suppose you want to take her with you then?" asked the gold-toothed wizard, giving him back the parchment.

"What?" cried a voice from the cell.

"Yes, I do," said Draco, folding up the parchment and feeling its edges. "So, if you please, _work the_ _charms_…"

A large hot air bubble seemed to have swelled up in Hermione's chest, where she could hear her heart beating like voodoo drums.

"NO!!" she said forcefully as the charms around her cell were removed. "No, he can't take me _anywhere_!!"

"Say, say, missy, you have grown fond of our little _place_ here quite clearly," said the guard, grinning at her with a glint of gold. "But you see, your master has come to claim you and - well, you must go..."

_Master?_ Thought Hermione, as tears rose up in her eyes. What – was she hallucinating? She turned towards Draco with hatred written all over her face. "What is the meaning of this, Malfoy? I'm not coming anywhere with you!" she shouted.

Draco's face was impassive except for his smirk. And his smirk struck her like lightning.

Grant forced her out of the cell and she was left muttering, cursing silently to herself. What was Malfoy going to do with her? She hadn't seen him since so long and knew nothing of him except what he'd told the guards a little while before. And _that _she never wanted to know…

She felt a hand take hold of her arm. She looked up to meet the placid, pale demeanor of Draco Malfoy, and fought for words…

"I'll need her wand," commanded Draco, turning to the guards. "I'll be keeping it with me…."

**(xxx)**

The dark night swooped down on her with a refreshing taste on her skin as she stepped out the Circle's headquarters. But she – she felt like fainting. Her body trembled in the light wind, unable to support herself with the many progressive shocks.

"Come on, Granger. We have a long way to go," Draco's voice sounded from her side. "And the lesser you protest, the sooner we can get there."

He turned to her, finding her to be staring right at him, obviously very, very angry. Of course, he'd always envisioned it this way: he'd come to save her, she'd get mad and mistake the purpose and then, go bonkers and start screaming and…

"At least, tell me where you're taking me."

Her meek eyes met his. She really was weak.

The top of the mountain was cold and her robe did not help her keep warm. The wind simply fluttered around the fabric between her legs, chilling her to the bone.

"Home," he told her, staring out from atop the mountain, at the many layers of trees and slopes spread before them. "We're going home, Granger."

**(xxx)**

They began to go down the slope in silence, fighting against the wind to keep moving. Hermione, hugged herself against the midnight chill. She'd been so cold, her body was trembling and the tip of her nose felt like a block of ice. She moved a few idle stands of hair from her face and unconsciously stared at the shadow ahead of her…

Draco had a close watch on the witch behind him, he was almost definite she was looking for the chance to escape since she'd been tagging a little behind with just enough spacing to make a dash back to the headquarters... but running back to Knot and Grant seemed just as distant a possibility as flowers blooming in Voldemort's castle on a misty December morning. Had she somehow escaped into the forest, she'd be serving herself on a silver platter to the wild heinous beasts lurking through the woods….

His dark grey eyes took a peek at her over his shoulders. The girl had her eyes downcast, holding the robe tightly around her frame, cursing, if he'd known better. She wasn't planning on escaping, he concluded…a satisfied smirk crept up his face and Draco focused on the forest out below…

**(xxx)**

_Accio wand_, _accio wand_…Hermione forcefully repeated the spell in her mind.

Her agitation grew as her attempts turned futile. She was getting the gut feeling that she wasn't going to like what was coming.

_Accio wand_, she mouthed.

Why wasn't the spell working? She was supposed to be having her wand in her hand by now. Maybe magic didn't work soundly in this area. After all, it was dominated by dark forces – the balance of good and bad magic may have been upset…

Her eyes scanned the area ahead. They were heading out into the forest, descending into the trees…

_Accio wand…_

Her wand shot into her hand.

Draco stopped instantly in his tracks.

Behind him, Hermione had her arm outstretched, wand at the ready, pointing it straight at his back. "Make a last _wish_, Malfoy…" she sneered.

Draco turned around slowly, wearing nothing but a grim expression of calm and composure with a little bit of annoyance on his features.

"Going to kill me already?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips and staring down mockingly at her. "Geez, that's a bit fast, don't you think? I mean, I haven't really had the chance see my grandkids grow up yet…"

"Stop being so cocky, Malfoy, your words are nothing but _scum_ to me…" Hermione welded her wand between her fingers, her eyes shot fire. It amazed him that she could appear so completely compelling even when she was tired and freezing.

Draco noted with quiet dismay that she wasn't as weak as he had expected.

"You expect me to believe that you actually came up here to take me back? To think that you're actually of some _use _to wizard kind?" she said with an icy sneer.

"Actually, no. I _didn't_ expect you to believe anything I said," he said dryly, smirking up at her. "In fact, if you had believed it, it would have meant that pigs gave birth to sparrows and love-struck canines went around with water lilies in their ears…"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Shut up, you _pathetic_ excuse for a wizard… what's going on here, Malfoy? You wouldn't have got me out of there, even if you were to have a deal in _death_…"

How well she'd picked her words, only Draco knew…

Nevertheless, he dropped his smirk and told her in a drawl, "You shouldn't be so sure of yourself, Granger. After all, the last time you were sure of yourself, you got lost in a forest with a bunch of death eaters on your chase. And shall we say, you still haven't been very successful at warding them off."

"Don't _try_ to escape my question!" she shouted, silencing all fancy remarks that were to come her way.

Over her shoulders, Draco glimpsed at the fortress atop the hill. It looked like a giant black dragon crouched in slumber…a frail mist hovered around its upper terrace, rolling languidly over the cannons and flags.

Out on the grass, something seemed to move…or was the mist simply clouding his vision, Draco wasn't sure…

He looked back at the girl who hadn't taken her eyes off him and was still waiting for an answer. Why couldn't it have been simpler, he thought, why couldn't he just hex her into following him wherever he went? That way, he couldn't be bothered about her getting _killed_...

He began to take steps towards her, his cloak fluttering wildly in the wind.

"Listen, I cannot explain it to you right now…." He said, making it back up the slope.

"Why not?" asked Hermione pointedly. She was still holding her wand directly at him.

"_Because_…" he had come up to her right now and was peering at a spot behind her shoulder. "Because if I explain it to you now, we'll be getting our rumps fried by the gnarly man behind that tree…"

He suddenly grabbed her hand, shouting, "_incendio_!" at a spot layered by mist. And before Hermione could comprehend what was happening, she was running straight into the woods with Draco.

**(xxx)**

Had her heart not been pounding so loudly, she'd have heard the man screaming in pain behind him.

"Come on, they're on to us," he told her, running faster and faster into the darkness of the woods.

"_Who's _on to us, Malfoy?" came Hermione's voice, panicked and choked. "You couldn't be meaning the death eaters, could you?"

_Blimey, she was daft_. Draco pushed the thought away from his mind, focusing on what lay ahead. All he could make out in the dark was the closest thing in front of his eyes. A tree bark, a stray branch.

An acute sensation of frenzy, replaced by imminent fear caught on to him: they were deep in the death eater forest, he and Granger, and he'd done the single worst thing that would expose his plan…he'd attacked one of them…what wouldn't make them suspect him _now_?

He could hear Granger's pants behind him. "Keep up!" he snapped, pushing through the thickening vegetation of the forest.

The wind whipped past him, accompanied by the sound of many a shifting hedge. A sharp "ow!" sounded from behind him as Hermione went headfirst at a tree.

He knew that she couldn't see either, but she had to keep running…

**(xxx)**

Finally, they'd made it to a small clearing lit by pale moonlight.

Staggering to a stop, Hermione attempted to catch her breath from the tiring exertion, adjusting her vision to the pale light at the same time. She could hear Draco breathe raspily at her side, trying to catch a breath too.

It then struck her that he was still holding her hand - And he didn't know it himself. He was too busy scanning the area for movement or threat.

Slowly, she untangled her hand from his and stepped back. "Explain," she said curtly to him.

Draco turned to her, his face emotionless.

"What did you do to that man out there?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "And why are they after us?"

"You want to know _why _they were after us, Granger?" he spoke dryly. Hermione noted the serious look on his face, and couldn't help anticipate the worst. Nevertheless, she stared him in the eyes, demanding an explanation.

"You want to know why we're here right now, in the middle of a crazy forest, about to be hunted by the death eaters? It's because your stupid headmaster set up a plan to rescue you from the Dark Lord's clutches. A plan that, unfortunately, involved me. Which is why I'm standing here before you, trying to get us back to civilization in one _single_ _piece_-"

Draco's eyes had darkened considerably, the steely grey glinting as if currents lurked underneath. He scanned her face for understanding for he couldn't help but feel mortified at portraying the plan so blatantly to her. He was hoping he'd get to play around a bit.

But then, with the present circumstances, she'd probably go ballistic and hex him if he didn't tell her at least a bit of what had been happening in the past few months of his life…not that he was afraid of her hexes, but it would lead to their capture - and he didn't want to stress on what would happen to him then.

"You're a _spy_," she stated quietly.

"Well, _yes_!" he cried in frustration. "So, would you, please, just _cooperate_, and let me do this-?"

Hermione leaned back against a tree trunk with folded hands, looking at him with a scrutinizing glare. "I can get back on my own…I don't need help from someone who's going to serve the Dark Lord after this."

Draco noticed the cutting edge of her voice and at once, began to feel his blood boil. "I've told you before – you're just going to get hunted down if you try to get out on your own! - why _aren't you thinking_?"

"I _am_ thinking!! That is why I'm not going to believe you when you say that you're going to help me get out of this hell!" she spat out scathingly. "For all I know, you're just going to murder me and leave my body for some wild animal to prey on."

Draco advanced on her with a meaningful look. "I can do that _right _now if I want to…" he growled.

His animosity for her augmented to ten times its size. Why was she making this so hard for him? Why couldn't she just shut her mouth and hold back her spite until they were done with this mission?

"If we wait around here, they're going to catch us," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "I'm done trying to convince you. You can come if you want."

He gave her a nod, then, turned away and walked into the woods….

No sooner had he been very deep into the woods, he heard a hushed voice from behind him, "keep your wand at the ready, Malfoy."

**(xxx)**

They'd been walking for half an hour now, listening cautiously for noises or sounds of peculiar movement. So far, there was nothing but the crunching of Draco's boots and Hermione's short breaths. An occasional howl of the wind, accompanied by the cry of a preying wolf would reach their ears, but without threat.

Till now, they'd come safely, with neither of them getting hurt by any means, relying only on moonlight to show them their way. Draco had almost been won over by the idea that the journey would remain peaceful if they'd kept up the discretion and quiet.

He turned back once and found the girl carefully coming up behind him, shoving away branches and leaves from her face.

"How long should we keep up like this?" she asked when she'd reached his side.

"Till morning I suppose," he answered. "We can't rest, by the way. We'll have to keep moving until we reach the edge of the forest, where balance between pure and evil magic is stable. From there, we can apparate."

Hermione let out a long sigh. This escape would take the whole night and she was tired. Not being able to get some rest didn't help either. But she went on.

"You know, I can't believe you to be at one with the good side," she said, lagging behind him as he walked on. "With Dumbledore's side. We've had your name down with the death eaters for the past many weeks. Tonks has been on your case."

Receiving no remarks, she continued, "Do you know the Order thinks you're the one responsible for the charring of the Patil household, and for the killing of Frank Longbottom? They think you're highly dangerous."

"And _you_-? What do _you _think?" came his steely, cool voice from up ahead.

"Oh, I just think you're the dirt under my shoe…"

_Blimey_, that was when she realized she didn't have her shoes. She looked down at her feet. At her bare feet.

_Damn that stupid, Knot and Grant! _How was she supposed to go through a forest without anything protecting her feet?

Maybe she could knock down Malfoy and get into his boots.

**(xxx)**

Another clearing had come and gone. Draco had slowed down for some time, taking in a whip of cool air and stretching out his limps. Behind him, Hermione fell upon a broken tree trunk lying on the ground. _I'm so tired, I could fall asleep right here_, she thought, rubbing her face with her hands, at the same time, keeping her eyes open for anything strange.

She stared out at the forest, at the dark, empty spaces between the trees, thinking about how all this happened-

She remembered it was a cold, wearisome night. Her sources had told her that the missing aurors had gone wandering around in this forest. She'd also received intelligence that they'd been under the imperious curse, moving in a direction south of the Polar Balance (the line separating the realm of dark magic from the world, which extended from the edge of the wood till the shores of the Great Ocean).

Her task had been to find the two missing persons. And she had been pursuing it with little success as she was without backup and could not send or receive information regarding their whereabouts due to the unstable condition of the woods.

Her task took two whole days and a single night.

The second night, she'd been captured.

Anger plunged into her veins as she thought of how lamely she'd landed in the lap of the dark forces. She wasn't even aware of their presence when they stood right beside her by the tree trunk, though her compass moved wildly with no certain direction…

Hermione shook away the unpleasant memory. She'd been feeling bad enough for herself to go land in a situation like that. Now, there was another situation she had her hands dirtied in: her _escape_ with Draco Malfoy.

It made her feel, if possible, _worse_. Because she was relying on Malfoy, convicted death eater, to lead her out of the forest, with full knowledge of her circumstances, making her possibly vulnerable to any kind of mojohe sent her way…

Anyways, there was no point in cribbing about 'feelings'. Feelings change all the time.

Maybe she might even end up liking her journey with him by the break of day tomorrow, and who knows, maybe he's been right all along - he would take her to Dumbledore!

Such happy thoughts were fairly elevating for her mood, but when the puncture came in form a look from Draco, all the air just frooffed out. Deflated.

He noticed that her face was twisting in some odd way. Probably anxious about something (what wasn't there two be anxious about?). Then, he'd noticed the way she was biting her lips in some kind of act of desperation, and it was garnering her his attention, he had to glare and burn a hole in whatever was her issue.

Satisfied, he peered around the forest…

He couldn't have mistaken it, but there was an odd _chill _the place was giving him. The forest had been on fairly moderate temperature till then. He looked towards the girl. She was feeling it too, slowly, tightening her robe around her.

A creepy, layered mist spread through the trees, wreaking across upturned roots and hedges and making its way towards their clearing.

Hermione got up and walked towards him. "Draco…what's happening?"

"I-I dunno," he replied uncertainly as the mist closed around them. He could feel Hermione come closer, a small tug at the sleeve of his shirt to indicate her presence. The sheer whiteness of the fog had blinded them, getting into their noses and chilling their bodies.

A breath of icy cold air was blown their way, and Draco felt her curl into him. He couldn't mistake the action for anything other than the need to not loose him in the fog, for it had grown so thick, they lost sight of the trees and the vegetation around them.

Then, _he saw it_.

A glistening pair of eyes set into the fog. He couldn't say how deep in the fog it was, but the shinning orbs shone dully with layers of mist passing over it.

He placed a hand around the girl lightly, never once taking his eyes off the orbs. "_Don't move_…" he whispered.

The chill crept in through his shirt, pressed against his body. His own heartbeat seemed to die within his chest…

The girl made a sound similar to a whimper. The chill was starting to affect her too.

The two orbs of shining light drew closer, a haze around them like the flashlights of a car on a foggy night. Then slowly, inch by inch, a face was revealed.

Draco watched horror-struck as the eyes were set into deep sockets in a black face…a dog's face.

He wanted to close his eyes…was he seeing _the grim_?

The muffling sound of the frigorific ambience, the horrible chill pressed onto them from all around, flowing into their clothes like gaseous water. "Don't _move_," he whispered again, holding her close….

A haze of slivery white light erupted from the behind the black face, shrouding it in its pure essence. It cast out over Draco and Hermione, and for a minute, they were standing under a glimmering, white sky...

No sooner had the light appeared, it wisped into nothingness. The chill receded, withdrawing into the trees, as did the mist. And the face of the dog disappeared into the wood along with the shinning orbs of light.

"Is it _gone_?" Hermione's voice reached his ear.

She opened her eyes and looked around…there was no fog, there was no chill… "What was that?" she asked, stepping away cautiously.

She received no answer; for Draco's eyes hadn't left the spot where he'd seen the dog's face disappear. Yes, he'd been spooked, but far worse than witnessing a supernatural phenomenon, he had seen the _grim_, the omen of _death_…

"Let's go," he said in a whisper.

He looked at Hermione who'd been watching him funnily.

"You look terrified, Draco," she said. The unnerved look was clearly visible on his face. His pale exterior had clearly betrayed his feelings at the moment. "Did you see something?"

"No. _I said_, 'let's go'!" he said a little more forcefully. "Move it - _now_!!"

**(xxx)**

The midnight moon appeared like a ring descended between the hills. Sure, it was an object of quiescent enchantment and all, but Hermione couldn't help but be reminded of werewolves when she looked at it. She even heard one howl in the woods.

"You'd tell me if it was important, wouldn't you?" she called out.

Draco was walking straight ahead with his wand out, pushing branches from his face on high alert.

"Why does it bug you so much, Granger?" he asked back in an unconcerned voice.

"Because we're in this forest together, and if something goes wrong and I've got to bear witness to-"

"Will you just _shut it_?"

Hermione glared at him: he'd seen something. She knew it. Like a primal instinct.

Heck, she'd felt the cold too – the absolute chill grazing her face and arms, the strange feeling that was something was out there…

Yet, why wouldn't he tell her what it was? He wasn't even ready to admit what he'd seen…_ugh_, she hated it when things were so hard to figure out! Malfoy was such a prat, at times! Ever so stubborn!

Meanwhile, in Draco's mind, very different thoughts lurked.

Judging by the way of things, there was an end coming up for him pretty near in the future. His life span had already been cut short due to the war and now he knew death was waiting right around the corner somewhere….his brain was stormed with ideas of how he was to die…and no, he didn't have to think much about that…he knew how he was going to die.

"I saw the _grim_, Granger," he told her with no distinct emotion underlying his voice.

"_Oh_! Is that all?" came her response in a cool, unaffected manner.

Draco stopped by a hedge and turned in her direction, a scowl written on his face. "I saw the _omen _of death."

"Doesn't mean you're going to die," she replied casually coming up to him. "That Trelawney woman saw the grim in Harry's tea cup in third year. He didn't die."

"Potter lives on luck. He'd be roasted in hell if it weren't for that bird to show up in the chamber on time."

"And what do you live on?"

"_Choices_."

"Everyone lives on choices, Malfoy. Not only _you_…besides, even if you do die after seeing the omen, it's not going to be a loss for anyone…" she smirked at him cheekily and continued her walk proudly into the woods.

Draco leaned back on a tree trunk, contemplating the meaning of her words. It hit him with hard anger that the words were indeed true: he was of use to the Order and to the Dark Lord, but between the shift of sides, he didn't think he was very much valued by anyone. Even his _mother_ despised him. There was a possibility that after his death, he would be remembered as a Malfoy boy with no backbone…

His predictions and muses were broken when he heard a shrill scream rake through the forest

– _Granger! _He thought in alarm.

He ran into the part of the wood into which she'd disappeared, searching for the girl with a frantic gaze. "Granger! Where _are_ you?"

The woods were dark, sending back echoes. His body turned around, cloak swishing on the ground. _Stupid girl, what had she gotten herself into now?_

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our little Draco," came a sneering voice from the shadows.

Draco froze as he heard the voice. He knew that voice…it _couldn't_ be…

A hooded figure stepped out into the moonlight, followed by another, shorter in stature, holding Hermione in an arrested position with a hand covering her mouth and a wand stuck at her throat.

Draco's eyes widened, but he tried not to show his alarm.

The figure out down the hood to reveal himself, "I'm afraid Miss Granger has been running into some _very_ troublesome spots recently," drawled Lucius, looking towards the girl who squirmed at the address.

The other hooded figure strengthened his hold on her, pushing his wand deeper into the side of her throat.

"Yes, well, I – I know," Draco cursed himself for stammering so much in front of his father. But he couldn't help but feel nervous for the girl in the death eaters hands. He watched her brown eyes dart between him and his father, panic showing in them rather blatantly.

"Wasting her time, looking for dead aurors, winding up with Alecto and now loose in the forest…." Lucius put on a fake scowl. "My, my, she is intent on getting herself killed."

"She's my charge, father. I got permission from the Dark Lord. That's why I brought her out," Draco said quickly.

Lucius turned his grey eyes on to him instead. "Really now, Draco? I didn't ask for that…" he said, a sly smirk forming at the corners of his lips.

_Damn!_ thought Draco. He felt like slamming his head into one of the nearby trees…

"Now why would you want you want to keep this girl?" continued Lucius, looking as if he was trying to answer his own question. "What _use_ could she be to you?"

"It's for my own pleasure, father," he replied quickly. "She's a waste of space at the quarters. Knot and Grant haven't been able to get a word out of her. I can do the job very well, then, discard her off like the rest of their lot. I'm sure that by the time I'm done with her, we'll have all the answers we require…"

His father gazed intently into his eyes, keen on making him squirm on the inside…Lucius was a powerful wizard, Draco knew. He could detect lies like it were a fly in his face.

"Good…" he ordered the other man to release Hermione.

"But I _do_ hope you know what you're doing. You are going to step into the free world after this, where our magical enforcements will not always be there to assist you."

"I do not require enforcements to get this task done, father."

Draco looked towards the girl – she was rubbing her arm gingerly, glaring sideways at the hooded man. Lucius looked at her too.

"Such a pretty face, don't you think?" he asked in a long drawl. "It's almost a pity she'd going to die…come, Travers, we should get back."

And with that, he raised his hood. "and Draco, I received intelligence that you set fire to a guard right outside the fortress….whether your intentions were honorable or not, it is not wise to harm one of us when we're lacking in number and strength….once again I'd like to say, I hope you know what you're doing."

After he'd wisped into the woods with the other deatheater, Draco breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the trying conversation was over. He expected Hermione to share the same relief, but for some reason, she appeared to be bothered, not relieved…

"I think he's on to us," she told him finally. "You could make it out in his words. He doesn't trust you."

Draco came over, placing a finger on his lips, gesturing her to keep silent. When they were close enough, he leaned in and said, "I wouldn't bet on it."

**(xxx)**

The sky had turned a shade of pale grey. Light clouds dotted the horizon and the stars had faded. They were still making it through the forest, the very first portions of it though, happy to have come so far. The lower layers of the forest were marked by thin trees and scattered bushes. The chirpings of birds could be heard, lending an almost elevating feel to the place. Hermione's spirits brightened when she saw the dawn of the fields and grasses…she could see the long grasses shift and bend in the cool, relaxing wind…

"See where we are right now, Granger?" Draco asked from her side. "We're going home, I told you."

She turned to him with a smile. It was the first time she'd _smiled_ at him…with her cheeks reddening in the soaring wind and her hair flying back…her smile, he'd never noticed it in this way before, but it was a charming smile. Draco thought he must have gone crazy, coz he actually noted her smile – and found it … _interesting_, to say the least.

"I didn't think you would do it," she breathed, placing her hands on her hips. "I really never thought we'd come this far."

"Well, I guess you owe someone an apology," he said with a smirk.

"I was being _cautious_!"

"But you still had the wits to go around doubting me at every juncture in the journey!"

"Oh _please_! We're not best buddies and you're not exactly the person I trust the most in this world…so I have all reason to doubt you."

Draco rolled his eyes, "fine. Whatever. We should get moving. I suppose the line of Balance is right behind that row of trees…" and he began to go down the slope into the fields.

Hermione paused before following his steps. The smile that had leaked onto her face through the conversation faltered when she looked down at her feet… they were bleeding. And sores had come up on the sides.

But she had to keep on going. She had to reach the line of balance.

She had to go back home.

So, with tired, bleeding feet, Hermione took small steps down the grassy slope.

**(xxx)**

By the time they'd reached the Polar Balance, the first few rays of sun had spread across the sky, lightening its hue to a faint pink. Standing under a withered willow tree, Hermione stared out at the land they'd journeyed across. She could see only the beginning of the forest, for the latter body extended back through the hills, to the ocean…

"Let's go," said Draco, pointing to a certain tall bush in the middle of the plain.

Hermione's eyes swept across the land for one last time and then, went over to Draco.

"We're going to have to apparate, right? …something a bit odd … a ring…yes…"

She came over to see what he was muttering about. "Looking for the port key?" she peered at the branches bearing small round berries.

"Found it-" and he pointed at a small, crusted ring hooked onto one of the top branches. "Yeah, so grab on to me, Granger…we're going home…" and before she could say anything, he'd grabbed her hand and touched the ring….

**(xxx)**

Landing on her sore feet, Hermione stumbled forward onto rough ground with a loud, "_ooff_!" she rubbed her back gingerly feeling pain shoot through. _God, that hurt_…her feet were now pounding with pain after the sharp landing.

"Oh _god_…" she got up shakily and stood awhile without certainty whether her legs would give way beneath her. However, she could claim balance over them and the only thing she had to deal with was the pain.

Malfoy stumbled in after her, landing firmly on his feet without losing balance. He dusted the sleeve of his shirt, checked on her, then turned to face the morning sunlight in full blast…

"Down there is Hogsmeade." he pointed with his chin. "The towns just waking up. Maybe we could catch a spot of tea before the townsfolk fill in."

Hermione looked down from where they were standing and took in the view of civilization…something she'd been missing for a long, long while.

As they walked down the streets, she saw sights she loved: a wooden cart being loaded with potion bottles, a street corner with an empty newspaper stand, the last of the streetlamps going out and young mothers throwing open windows of their tiny houses…it felt so good to witness such regular scenes. Hermione couldn't believe how long she'd been cramped inside the Order headquarters, working on cases, completely cutting off all contact with the outside world…

They got into a small coffee shop and ordered two cups of coffee.

"I'm sure you're thinking the next time you get caught, it should be in the Sahara, so I could burn my _back_ before I come to get you," Draco smirked.

"I wasn't thinking that," she said defensively, a grin creeping up her face.

"Yeah. Yeah. Keep on denying."

The next stop:

The Order's doorstep.

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**A/N: hope you found it to be a good read. if you liked it, please leave a review! It'll always be appreciated. :-)**

**Most of the chapters in this story are long and have a number of incidents bunched up into it. if you find it difficult to follow, do let me know, I'll do something about it. **

**since the chapters are long, the fic is likely to get over with 8/9 chapters. However, if you guyz really like it, I can continue, maybe with a sequel!**

**Now, the review button is right there – bottom left. **

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**Next chapter sneak preview: The Order, the Black's library, and some aroma therapy…**

**Luv yah!**

**-elixirgurl**


	2. The Order

**A/N: hey guys! Elixirgurl is back with chapter two of the adventure fic, "Curtain Call"! **

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_As they walked down the streets, she saw sights she loved: a wooden cart being loaded with potion bottles, a street corner with an empty newspaper stand, the last of the streetlamps going out and young mothers throwing open windows of their tiny houses…it felt so good to witness such regular scenes. Hermione couldn't believe how long she'd been cramped inside the Order headquarters, working on cases, completely cutting off all contact with the outside world…_

_They got into a small coffee shop and ordered two cups of coffee._

"_I'm sure you're thinking the next time you get caught, it should be in the Sahara, so I could burn my back before I come to get you," Draco smirked._

"_I wasn't thinking that," she said defensively, a grin creeping up her face._

"_Yeah. Yeah. Keep on denying."_

_The next stop:_

_The Order's doorstep._

Chapter - 2: The Order

The early morning heat pressed against Hermione's cheeks, warming them slightly as she stood at the doorstep of the ancient house of Black, holding in all peace and relief from a journey well ended. God, she couldn't still believe that she'd made it till here safely, without having endured much pain. It surprised her that she was still feeling up to the day even though her body was fatigued.

Draco shook off the last few remainents of dust from his cloak, performing a quick cleaning spell to banish the forest earth and dirt that had caught on to his clothes. He checked his reflection in the doorplate and drew back almost immediately: god, his face needed a wash. A spot of grime stained the side of his jaw. Annoyed, he wiped it off with his hands and checked his reflection again…

The house was quiet, bearing an unbearable muffled silence within it when they entered. The black stonewalls hosted rows of oil lamps that were still glowing and spreading pale yellow luminance to the surrounding areas.

Hermione closed the door behind her, causing the curtains over one of the nearby portraits to gently sway with the waft of current.

The smell of moulding tapestry and dust filled her nose trills, almost making her choke.

As she entered into the hall adjoining the entrance lobby, she was met with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting in though kitchen doors…the smell made her stomach hurt with the hunger she'd been feeling all through the journey.

The sound of a door clicking open was heard, soon followed by a squeal. And a tall, red haired girl came running down the stairs, her face brightened with a broad smile.

"Mum, she's here!! MUM, she's _back_!!" cried the witch, stepping off the last stair and rushing towards her.

"Hermione!! I'm so glad to see you!" she said, throwing herself at Hermione and giving her a tight hug.

"I'm glad to see you too, Gin," Hermione said, patting her shoulders.

The red head drew back, pulling back stray strands of flaming red hair from her face. Genuine affection showed her eyes and Hermione gave her a reassuring smile as she saw the worry surface in them. "Oh, Hermione, are you okay…?" she was saying. "We're so sorry we couldn't trace you-"

"Hermione!? Hermione!!!"

The sound of her best friends filled her with joy. She looked towards the top of the stairs, towards were she saw the two boys grinning back at her…

"Harry! Ron!" she called out to them.

"God, we missed you!" said Harry once they'd come down.

"Heya Harry," she grinned and walked over to him. They embraced and she could feel his concern for her in the way he was holding her, after so long.

She drew back and looked into the boy's green eye. She could see the relief surface in them when she assured him that she was okay.

She then turned to the other boy and hugged him too. "Ron…"

"Yeah, it's great to have you back, Mione," he struggled to say, his face going red as he hugged her back awkwardly.

The feeling of having her friends with her gave her so much comfort. Just seeing them made her forget all that had been weighed down on her in the past few days…

"Guys, I-"

Squeals and whoops of excitement came from the stairs, as the Weasleys appeared one by one, Mrs. Weasley the first to come down and express her concern. "Hermione, _my dear_, come _here_!!!" she squeezed the life out of her and began to fuss about her appearance. "Have you been eating anything?"

"No, but-"

"You look _famished_! They used a curse on you, did they?"

"They-"

"How are those wounds coming up, dear? They look _ghastly_!! We must patch those up, come with me-"

"We can do that after the girl eats," said Arthur Weasley from his wife's side.

Hermione grinned up at the balding Weasley father as he patted her on the shoulders and made way for his twins.

Tonks and Shacklebolt were one of the few aurors who'd come down to the hall to meet Hermione. Tonks was still in her bedclothes, nevertheless, she conveyed her sentiments with a handshake, "we really thought we had lost you this time. And it was the most absurd plan for Dumbledore to send Draco out to get you. I really didn't know what to think!"

All the while, she'd forgotten about Draco and it seemed that with all the fuss of her returning so safely, no one had noticed him either. At his mention in Tonk's utterance, Hermione shot a glance over her shoulder, where she could see him watch her and the red head clan bob up and down, celebrating her return.

There was a look in his eyes that she couldn't as yet decipher.

"Well, well, I see our heroes have returned home safely," came an aged voice from the top stair.

The members in the hall looked up to find Dumbledore smiling through his long, grey beard. "In fairly stable health. No harm done, I presume?"

Hermione's grin broadened as he looked at her with a beady sparkle in his eyes.

Dumbledore turned towards Draco, acknowledging his presence. "Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy…"

Draco wanted to shut his ears to the horrible silence that echoed through the room at the voicing of his name. Every face had turned to him. Harry's green eyes were narrowed and Ron stared at him with a mildly disgruntled expression, his hands folded over the front of his maroon sweater. They were still against him and his principles, Draco deduced from the hushed whispering that passed between the Weasley siblings. He watched the girl hanging onto to the eldest brother's shoulder, saying something in low tones.

God, he detested the way they kept doubting him! Every one of them, giving him shifty looks and thwarted remarks, ceaselessly, coming up with whatever conclusions they should make out of him and his family…

Why couldn't they give up? It's not like anything they said every made sense or came close to the real thing.

It was on Dumbledore's request that he had come here in the first place. Dumbledore knew that after Hogwarts had closed and the Malfoy manor was destroyed in the war, Draco had no place to go. His resources had been cut terribly low after Lucius had proved himself a deatheater, thus shattering his image in front of the ministry. And with the war having broken out and Voldemort coming back into power, he had to chose a side and accept his headmaster's offer to stay in the house of Black….

Draco thought of it to be the most unfair deal in life – to have no place to go and to wind up in a burnt house full of weasleys.

And they never ceased giving him a hard time…

He shifted his position on the wall, giving the members of the room his usual contemptuous smirk. _At least, thank me for saving your bumbling buck-toothed auror girlfriend, you pricks!_

"Now," said Dumbledore, bringing back all the attention to him, "how's tea coming about, Molly?"

"Ah, yes! The tea!" Molly looked like she'd suddenly remembered something. "I've put Kreacher in charge. Dear my, I hope he knows what he's doing with those pots and pans…" and she went into the kitchens, muttering under her breath..

Dumbledore then gestured to Draco and Hermione to come towards him.

The crowd gathered at the bottom of the stairs soon dispersed, Ginny following her mother to help out at the kitchens, Tonks and Kingsley returning to their rooms. Harry and Ron shifted around for some time, then finally went into the living room for a talk.

Draco walked lankily over to the headmaster, treating him like he was the last care in world. But Dumbledore, only knowing his character too well, proposed to ignore his aloofness and smile warmly.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did as you were told: you got Miss Granger back from the Circle headquarters and ensured her protection till your arrival here. I hope you didn't encounter any troubles along the way. The journey was peaceful, wasn't it?"

Draco was contemplating the answer while Hermione jumped in, saying, "nothing we couldn't handle." She grinned.

Draco gave her a look from the side, cocking an eyebrow.

"Nothing you couldn't handle you say? Very well then," said Dumbledore, shaking his head with comprehension. "I had calculated the strength of forest in advance and had dispatched Mr. Malfoy only with full faith that he'd be able to resist its powers and manage his own. So, I guess that went well…"

"Everything went well except our meet with Draco's father in the woods," Hermione told the man with a hint of edginess in her voice. "Actually, he said the aurors had been dead and … didn't seem to trust Draco very much when he said he was going to – _well_ – use me for his purposes…"

She cast Draco a side-glance and caught him glaring. "…which might I add, is how _I _got the picture in mind."

Dumbledore sighed, "It may be so, but that is not for us to see. Now, you kids must be tired. A whole night trudging through a forest! How're you feeling, Miss Granger?"

"Surprisingly well," she answered without much thought. She did really feel better after seeing her friends and her headmaster again. "…though a bit tired…" she added later

"Then, you should go catch up on some sleep." He nodded in the direction of the side lobby.

"And by the way, take care not to step into the right-hand side stairway. The Cackle ghoul has been waiting near Lord Baron's portrait with a pail of ice cold water for quite some time now…"

Hermione grinned again. She looked at Draco before making the turn into the lobby – he appeared miserable. A scowl marked his features quite dominantly and his eyes were flittering with dislike and contempt for the headmaster. It looked like he was waiting for a chance to get away from the man.

"And how're you doing, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore turning to him.

"Fine," he answered snappishly.

"You're sure?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, not at the headmaster, but at a spot of dust patching up the floor under the window-side portrait. Of course, he wasn't okay. He'd just had a shrug with death by meeting his father half way across the forest! not to mention, he had seen the grim… and to be recollecting those events was like drowning himself in cold distant memories, that kept on reminding him of how thinly painted his life really was.

"I'm sure," he said with clenched jaws.

Dumbledore scanned him through with glistening, blue eyes, wearing down the layers of pride and self-contentment: it amazed him that every time he saw him through, there was the scared boy fighting inside, alone and frustrated from the ways of the world…

Even now.

"You'd like to see you after dinner tonight, Draco," he said soberly. "If that's okay with you…"

_Good, now we can chat ourselves to sleep_, thought Draco, trying hard not to roll his eyes. He nodded and stepped aside as the headmaster took leave and descended down the stairs.

**(xxx)**

While the rest of the house buzzed with activities and sounds pertaining to the start of the day, our heroes reached up to their rooms, tiredness weighing on their shoulders and resting on their eyelids. Hermione got into her room and closed the door, looking in the direction of her bed. It seemed like such a long time since she'd seen anything close to a comfortable armchair, and the sight of her bed with its warm covers and plump pillows made her eyes tingle. The minute she fell on it, sleep overcame her, whisking her away into the world of dreamless slumber.

Draco's muscles ached from exertion. He hadn't realized how exhausted he had become until he'd reached his room and laid down on his bed. He tried to catch some sleep but sleep evaded him every time he closed his eyes.

Underneath him, the stringy cot creaked. The ghoul downstairs could be heard cackling at some unfortunate wizard who had stepped into the right hand side stairway. The youngest Weasley girl was shouting at her brothers for doing something irreparable to her maroon jumper.

His pillow had been tattered, old and rather hard with the ancient cotton still stored inside. It lent him a relentless pain at the jointure of his shoulder and neck. Oh, this house was simply _killing_ him…

Groaning in frustration, he got up from the bed and went out the room, closing the door with a 'click'.

**(xxx)**

Opposite his door was a broad window, outlooking the rows and rows of muggle streets and houses. Folding his hands on the sill, Draco stared out at the red and brown rooftops, the hot sunlight falling directly on his face.

He watched the net curtains of the surrounding houses flutter in the wind, revealing their perfectly packed interiors, full of wood and furniture. The kitchen window of a double storied apartment showed a young mother doing her dishes while a toddler with his thumb in his mouth, pulled at her apron. Through another window, he could see flashes of light and colour erupt from a small black box, sounds of guns and firing accompanying the emission. It reminded him of the war going on at home.

A young girl of about 16 appeared at the window of the house in front of him. she looked out, her streaked blonde hair bouncing in a ponytail, and waved to a lanky, freckled faced boy who'd come out to throw the trash from a house across the road.

Draco scowled. He hated puppy love. Puppy love was so _stupid_.

The boy grinned up at her, putting down the trash bag, mouthing that he'd come over in the evening. That was enough and more of a reason for the 16 yr old girl to squeal and run back into her room, probably to make arrangements…in time, Draco could hear loud, beaty music play from her room…something about someone's girlfriend not being as hot as someone…

Like he cared about some lame, overly confident lady calling herself a freak a dozen times!

Honestly, didn't these people know how much energy they were wasting brewing up unproductive conversations and activities?

He retreated from the window with a deep scowl on his face.

Since the whole house was up and bustling, he decided that maybe he could have some fun with the members inhabiting it. Not in the conventional way of course! But he needed something to lift up his spirits and he spotted the opportunity coming his way in the form of a furry, ginger, grumpy looking _cat_.

After having jinxed the cat to do his bidding, Draco went downstairs where the household had gathered for breakfast. Noises of happy conversation filled the air of the large spacious dining area. The table hosted plates of bread and cream and at least a dozen jars of orange juice. Amidst all the chattering and cluttering, no one saw Draco sneak up behind the railing of the second floor and cast the charm…

Chrookshangs sprang forward as if his tail had caught fire and leaped onto the breakfast table…Ginny screamed.

A pandemonium followed as the cat sprang into all the dishes and bread piles, spraying the onlookers with its contents. Arthur got an egg in his eye and Tonks received a face full of noodles from one of the bowls the cat upturned. Jars and plates went crashing down to the floor. Orange juice and milk spilled over the table and onto the laps of one of the aurors.

The twins, enjoying the chaos, took hold of their bacon and threw it at Ron, who went red as it streaked his face and fell to the floor. Ron then shouted a string of swear words at the twins and got ready to attack back, receiving all forms of encouragement from Harry at his side.

"Ron, NO!" shouted the mother of all mothers, Mrs. Weasley, rushing towards her son and trying to get hold of his hands. "You put that down _right this instant_! Ron, I'm serious-"

Ginny was still screaming, Arthur wiped the egg off his eye and hastily pulled a cap over his bald head, shielding it from any further egg attacks. The cat's bulky body pushed down the water goblets and soon sent the water mixing with the juice, streaming off to the ends of the table.

At a corner of the room, Kreacher jumped at his spot, clapping his hands with glee…

Finally, it was Alaster Moody who stunned the cat.

Draco smirked….as he watched the family downstairs return to their original state of affairs (Mrs. Weasley red in face from hearing her sons swearwords), he couldn't help but contemplate: maybe he was some use to wizard kind after all…

**(xxx)**

Night had fallen when Hermione woke up from her slumber. Outside, the sky was black except for tiny dots of stars, twinkling high above the rooftops. The night air had been slightly cool and breezy, refreshing and calming at the same time.

After a long invigorating bath, Hermione dabbed on some oil to her dried skin. As she sat on her bed, massaging it into her skin, her mind began to absorb less of reality and more of feeling, especially the feeling the cool night was giving her. She looked towards the hearth in her room, where a cozy fire stood ablaze, nested in a lap of twigs and logs. Her cheeks warmed up with its heat.

She took in the heavenly scent of the oil: sandalwood and sea butter. The combination made her senses swirl…aromatherapy, she realized.

After spending a decent fifteen minutes revitalizing her skin (something she wouldn't normally do, but since the cold mountaintop and forest had really damaged her skin, she tended to do), she pulled on a dark maroon robe and stepped out of her room.

The house was enveloped in silence. The cozy sort of silence that suited her soul.

Oil lamps glowed brightly in their niches. Threadbare curtains fluttered in the wind.

She went down the stairs, wondering where all the people were and stopped at the second floor railing, looking down at the dark dining room. The table was clean and sparkling. The chairs had been pushed inside. She supposed they'd finished having supper.

She descended down the last flight of stairs and passed through the dinning area to the living room. They appeared to be in there. Orange light came from the doorway. Soft voices wafted over to her ears along with cackles of fire. She peeped inside.

The Weasley children were enjoying their time together in the room. Fred and George were away at a corner discussing the details of a new joke product, Harry and Ron were in the fireside chairs, a game of chess keeping them engaged. Ginny was running a hand through her bright red hair, curled up on the couch.

She looked up when Hermione entered.

"Heya Hermione. Slept well?"

She moved over so that Hermione could sit down.

"Yeah. Like a log. Wouldn't know how much I snored!"

Hermione grinned at the boys. "So, you guys missed me?"

"We really did, Mione," Ron said, his eyes fixed on the chessboard. He reached across the board and snatched away Harry's bishop. "And it wasn't just us - think of how lonely Crookshangs got when you weren't around. I mean, we cuddled - " He added with a shrug.

"Oh, that's nice to hear. You two are finally getting along."

"Yeah, but maybe it isn't so nice to feel his furry dishwasher tail against my nose every time I try to pet him."

"Get used to it, Ron," said Hermione with a slight laugh.

"Oh, and, by the way, Hermione," Harry turned to her with a bit of nervousness on his face. "Er – Mad-Eye had to, sort of stun your cat-"

He bit his lips and watched the girl's face darken. "_Stun my cat_?" she repeated.

"he-he said he was sorry and all. I'm sure he really didn't mean to do it, but the cat just got in the way of things, know what I mean?"

Ginny pushed back her hair, untangled her legs from underneath her and jumped off the couch. "See you later, Mione," she mumbled to her and slipped out of the room with a smile. She wasn't surprised when Hermione's anger broke out on the boys, sending loud cries and wails echoing down the many corridors and hallways that knitted through the first floor.

**(xxx)**

However, her smile broke off when she encountered Malfoy on the way. He seemed keen on avoiding her at first, then later, for some reason, was intent on blocking her way.

"Move," she said to him with an icy glare.

"And if I don't?" he snapped back.

Ginny thought of all the names she could probably call him, all the hexes she could use on him right now. She gripped her wand in between her fingers.

"If you don't, I'll probably have to hex you out the window."

"Oh, really? Are you going to do that? Lets see that, then! Little red head weaselette, throwing the big bad Draco Malfoy out the window…"

Ginny's face visibly contracted with an ugly expression of disgust and loathing. Her fingers tightened around the slender frame of her wand and she was forced to it pull out only because she felt the dire need to teach him a lesson.

"Honestly Malfoy, you really underestimate the members of my family," she said, pointing it towards his face.

The slightest ghost of a smile came upon Draco's lips as he realized that this thin, puny carrot-head girl was actually threatening him. Nevertheless, he didn't fear her or fight her. What was the point? He would always win.

"But you want to know what I think about yours? I think you've got the _worst_ family anyone could possibly have!" she spat out. "And you want to know another thing? - You're just as _pathetic_ as any of them! And right now, I can throw you out the window if I want and teach you lesson or two, but I'm refraining, because I don't want to waste my time!"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. He could see the way she was holding back from explaining her noble intentions further and to let it pass, he said, "_filth_."

"What?" asked Ginny sharply.

"What you say is just filth. Anyways, I'm not going to further delay you from whatever activity it is that your kind do. So, please, be my guest - and _leave_."

He smirked and stepped aside, waiting for her to go.

Ginny gritted her teeth. Though she felt that he deserved a good whacking on the face, she didn't do it. Hopefully, she could do that another time, at another place, where there would be more people and less silence…she walked off, a scowl hanging from her lips.

**(xxx)**

Draco watched the redhead retreat into one of the rooms to the left and sighed. God, the Weasleys must really hate him for churning out such spite and venom in their words, he thought gloomily. For some unknown reason, it was almost like he wanted them to show a different side, to show some thing other than contempt and hatred towards him.

Not that he admitted it of course.

Times had changed now and wizard kind was slowly breaking up into the good and bad. He was hoping that he'd get something other than their scorn before he left this world…

Sometimes, he just found himself wondering along the lines of what would have become of him if _he_ ever showed them anything other than his own pride and contempt. Would it make him feel more accepted? Would it make him feel more secure?

Could it possibly wipe out their differences?

He doubted it.

Deep inside, he knew that even if he let go of all his pride and contempt towards their day-to-day activities, it wouldn't make them one. They'd still be the full-of-love Weasleys and he'd always be the loathsome Malfoy.

-and to an extent he wanted to keep it that way. Their lack of knowledge about him actually gave him more of a breathing space.

But still, it's like he wanted someone to know, and understand what he was going through.

Quietly, Draco walked down the hallways, listening to the wind wiping through the boards of the house.

He didn't have any destination in mind. It was just the cool night air and the breeze that made him to walk. Occasionally, he'd stop and stare out a window, with his hands delved deep into his pockets, and he'd watch the empty muggle crossing or the lonely elm tree in the backyard of one of the houses or sometimes just the shadows of bodies moving behind the yellow curtains.

As he turned back to the house, to the darkness of the hallways that lay ahead of him, he couldn't help but long to go outside and feel the cool wind through his body.

But that would be suicide. Especially in his case.

Draco knew well that if he had to step outside the confines of this house and go down the street (or go anywhere else for that matter), he'd be attracting death. Especially after his escape with Hermione, the death eater world out there would be looking for him. To catch him – and to _kill_ him.

He found himself outside a room flooded with orange firelight and looking into the glow, he got himself a peculiar picture of a bushy brown haired girl yelling herself hoarse at her friends (something about a stunned feline) and a pair of twins grinning away at a cozy corner. They hadn't noticed his form at the door. Taking advantage of their ignorance, he leaned on his side and watched the girl fight for whatever cause with all her strength.

"And none of you prevented it from happening! I mean – can you just imagine the consequences! - he could have _died_!"

"Ron was a little too engaged in wiping steak off his face-"

"Shut up, Harry! The thing is a cat for heavens sake! He could have borne it pretty well!"

"He's _my _cat, Ron. And no, he couldn't have borne it well! Animals react differently to charms and hexes. Honestly, what was Mad-Eye thinking when he did it?"

"He probably didn't want to get the stuffing eaten out of his turkey."

"Ugh, Ron! You are so disgusting!!"

She turned away from the boy with a huff and folding her hands, faced the doorway. "Oh," she said, spotting Malfoy. "You were here."

Her brown eyes darted away from his. Great! Now she was feeling stupid having been caught at such a moment.

Harry and Ron looked at him from their chess set, exchanging disconcerted looks.

"Yes, I was here and got to see the funny exchange between you and your friends," he drawled. "So, poor miss puss-lover got her cat stunned. Boy, that _is_ sad…" he tsk-tsked and smirked at her. "-it's not dead, is it?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "No. its not," she said in an unchanging tone.

"Too bad then. I was hoping to get a good start tomorrow in the morning by witnessing some cat burying rituals. Anyways, in case something like that happens, do inform me. I'll bring the incense sticks."

He couldn't help but give himself a pat of the back for saying those words so well to earn that typical outrageously offended expression from Hermione. She was literally fuming…

Merlin, she was on fire, was she?

Draco blinked away the apparent blurriness caused by the firelight haze in the room – for a minute there, she almost looked pretty with the warmth on her cheeks and the contrasting drape around her.

The boys in the room were giving him deep, loathsome looks and Draco thought it better to leave the room before trouble cropped up in the form of fists and punches.

Just as he turned and began to walk, he heard the girl say from behind, "I can't believe I even thought of thanking you, for saving my life."

Draco stopped in his tracks. He titled his head to his side and smirked.

She came up to him, a grim expression marking her features. Her brown eyes were dark. He noticed that the bun she'd done up with her hair had come loose, with strands of brown hair lying across the shoulder of her robe.

"Or did you forget? You just made an escape from the Dark Lord's clutches yesterday."

Her words were chilling.

"Thanks for reminding me. I was trying to forget about it," he said dryly, the smirk fading. "Got anything else to say?" He stared intently into her brown eyes. In their darkened depths, they seemed to be drowning him.

He looked away from her at once. _All the effect of the firelight_, he told himself, _just the effect of firelight…_

Hermione drew in a deep breath, placing her hands on her hips. She scanned Draco's face, and found that the effect of her words spanned widely over his features in the form of vexation.

She thought that maybe she had just imagined it, but something dark passed through them. Was it hurt? Was it just plain anger? Or was it something deeper?

"I don't know what you've done to deserve a place in the Order, Malfoy," she said, without acknowledging the fact that she herself was starting to feel a bit guilty, "but whatever the reason is, you'll never quite fit in."

"I don't care," he said with a menacing edge to his voice. "I don't care if I fit in or not."

"You're lying."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh stop pretending, Malfoy! I can see the desperation in your eyes."

Draco was about to snap back with his usual brainless comments, but stopped and thought over what she said. He found his mouth automatically closing, as if an icy finger pushed up his jaw into a tight, fierce clench. Had he been that obvious about it?

Hermione took a step closer, narrowing her eyes. "Its really maiming you on the inside, isn't it?"

For surprises, there was a bit of concern in her voice that showed in her subdued tone. It was reliving, but only for a second –

"I'm doing fine, Granger," he stated firmly.

"You look so tired."

"I'm not tired! It's just the moonlight, its making me look sick…"

"Fine. Have it your way." she shrugged her shoulders and turned to go back into the room. However, before she disappeared into the room, she cast him a sideways glance.

He had his hands deep into his pockets and was staring at her oddly.

Hermione, for the first time in her life, saw how truly lonely he was, standing all alone in the corridor, half covered in shadows that hung in the air. She struggled with her guilty feelings at having seen right through him.

"Goodnight, Malfoy," she said indifferently and went into the room.

**(xxx)**

Draco came to the end of the corridor, having been walking the last ten minutes. Opposite him was a large wooden door, polished and gleaming uncannily in the pale light from the gas lamps. He contemplated on whether to open it or not.

Though he'd heard about it, Draco had never been to the Ancient House of Black. His father had told him loads about its heritage and the line of pureblood ancestry that inhabited it for decades, making him quite eager to see the place for himself. But then, it didn't quite turn out exactly like the picture Lucius had put in his mind: having been host to the Order, the place had been cleared of many dark artifacts and other similar Black family treasures. Spells and incantations had been taken down. The all-around aura was that of an old, old burnt house that belonged to a farmer couple in the mid-80s.

With a fixed grim expression, Draco opened the door and stepped inside.

The room smelt of parchment. Stiff silence hung all around him. Watching his step, he made it through the dark, then, reached the point where the light from the lamps in the corridor was not sufficient to show him way.

"Lumos," he said, taking his wand in his hands. The second the word left his mouth, the whole room lit up with light. Soft, ambient light, naturally lifting from the ground. He guessed it was a charm that worked on sound and slowly, put his wand back into his pocket and looked around…

He was standing before a set of steps which descended into a large room lined with bookcases. A library.

A gigantic fireplace stood blazing with flames at the far end of the room, casting shadows of the dark mahogany furniture on the red and green carpeting. Tables with a few comfy looking chairs marked every corner and in the middle of the room stood a statue of a fierce looking wizard wearing a menacing scowl, his hands reaching out through the sleeve of his stone grey robe. It looked intimidating.

Draco descended down the steps, his hands slipping over the banister.

Paintings hung over the bookcases. Awards and certificates were displayed, framed into the walls in between.

He looked through the volumes pushed into the shelves of the nearest bookcase. Books of dark magic, omens, tarot cards. In another shelf, he found transfiguration and potion books he'd never seen at Hogwarts. He supposed their matter varied from what they taught at school too – of course, he added as an afterthought – these were the Blacks referencing their material, not first year students…

"I see you've finally found the Library of the Ancient Blacks," came a husky voice from the stairs.

Draco startled and dropped the book he was holding. "Merlin, who the-" he was about to swear.

He looked up to find Dumbledore smiling at him from the doorway. "Oh," he cried in exasperation. "Its you…"

"This library, founded by our own very first headmaster, Phineas Nigellus, has been in the family for decades," he continued, coming down the steps. "As you can see, it holds books dating back to his time, vast volumes of history and olden magic used for referencing by your forefathers whenever they were in need of it. Today, this library gives us detailed research material and undiluted knowledge about many things we are trying to understand…"

"It gives you insight to the ways of dark wizards, their areas of interest, their relations," said Draco, making sense of his last few words.

"Yes, and _no_," said Dumbledore. "You see, the ways of dark wizards can be found even within us. In our very own blood. It's meaningless to look for their ways in books and other articles."

Draco picked up the book and placed it on one of the shelves. "You mean to say that no one is pure good."

"_Or_ pure evil. Yes." the headmaster gave him a significant smile through his long, white beard. "But then, it is our actions make the real difference. Have you ever felt so?"

"No," answer Draco uninterestedly.

Dumbledore tilted his head and smiled. "_No_? Well, that's curious! Why do you say so, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco walked over to a nearby armchair and fell into it.

"I say so because sometimes, even if you do the right thing, it doesn't make a difference. You still remain evil. Even if you do a good thing, you know its coming from the pure evil that lives inside of you."

"Selfishness, you mean?"

Draco nodded.

"So I don't see how actions make the difference here. It's like you're still…evil….no matter what you do-right?"

Through his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore looked at the young boy in the armchair: he was so frail and weak, trying to be someone bigger than himself and perpetually failing, always falling into gullible traps set by others…

"I suppose there are cases like that," he said with a half-nod.

"And what _exactly_ do these cases do?" asked Draco with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, which didn't wear off on the headmaster, who pretended to think hard over the question.

Finally, he gave his reply: "I don't know."

Draco's body inched a little forward, startled by the man's answers. His surprise was never more obvious on his face than now. "You don't know?" he asked pointedly. "But you seem to know- _well_…"

"Everything?" supplied Dumbledore with a smile. He sat down in the opposite armchair and rubbed his hands together as if warming up from the night chill. "Well, I'm afraid I have never been in that situation myself, but I've seen a few cases of which you talk about. For example, take Voldemort (Draco flinched at the direct address). He never saw the light in himself during his childhood, which is why he's become one of the deadliest sorcerers of wizard time. People don't always see themselves in full strength, and that is why they get a crooked version of life and situations."

There was a long dreary silence that followed, broken only by the snapping of twigs in the fireplace. Draco focused hard on the spot next to Dumbledore's chair, trying desperately to absorb the facts he'd presented. Surely, that couldn't have been the case of the Dark Lord, could it…? He sighed, maybe he and the Dark Lord weren't so different after all. And that was something which frightened him beyond his wits.

"Would you like a chocolate frog, Mr. Malfoy?" asked the old man, bringing Draco out of his thoughts. "I've got a couple of them right here…"

Draco rejected the offer without much politeness and jumped into the topic of why he was here. "You told that you wanted to see me."

"Well, yes. I did. Actually, I was thinking about your escape and – did the guards really fall for the fake identity letter?"

"Don't think they even read through the whole thing. Granger was out pretty soon after that."

"And did she give you any trouble?"

"Oh no, you know, we were just buddies…" he shrugged with sarcasm. "Relying in each other, backing one another, delivering blows whenever necessary…"

Dumbledore smiled. "Do you know if they got any information out of her?"

"I think I got there before that. I mean, they did torture her and all, but whether she leaked information I'm not so sure… anyways, if they had gotten anything out of her, we probably wouldn't be sitting here calmly and speaking about it."

"Yes…Miss Granger would have done all she could to protect the Order and its activities. It is highly unlikely that she'd have split out anything."

Draco wanted to ask him why he believed in Hermione so much…he really did…

"And the forest of Czars, has it been completely taken over?" asked Dumbledore bringing back his attention to he topic at hand.

He nodded. "The whole forest, till the Polar Balance. The goblins have gone anyway. Escaped. I checked their lairs. They were empty."

"That's good to know," the headmaster breathed a sigh of relief. "Goblins are proud creatures, often unwilling to take sides."

"They wouldn't possibly side with us, would they?" asked Draco, thinking of the amount of goblin gold they'd have to offer the creatures to win their loyalty.

"I doubt it. But until that day, we'll just have to stand by and wait…"

There was a kind of hopeful finale in Dumbledore's voice that caught Draco's attention. He looked up to find the headmaster up on his feet.

"My map of the forest proved useful I suppose. You two didn't get lost in there, did you?" he asked.

"We were fine…" Draco answered immediately. He disliked how the man kept on asking about how their journey was. It was like he kept needing reassurances of his capability of handling such a stealthy situation.

"Very well then. I better get going. Molly's been expecting me for dinner. Is there any thing else you consider important to tell me?" his blue eyes shone through his glasses as if he was looking right through Draco.

Draco thought of all the things that was bugging him at the moment: his death eater baggage, the grim, his bleak future, the terrible loneliness he felt inside, the attitude of the Weasleys, the words of a certain brown eyed, brown haired girl…

"Don't think so," he answered dryly.

"Alright then. I'll see you soon, Mr. Malfoy…" with a nod and a twisted smile, Dumbledore turned from him and climbing the stairs, exited through the library doors.

The minute his bright blue cloak disappeared from sight, Draco leaned back into the chair with a sigh. That man had managed to ring out his self-image. What was he going to do next? Draco couldn't tell – tricky man that was Dumbledore…

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**A/N: …and that was chapter two! Liked it? review please!**

**Oh yeah: if anyone wishes to put my story on their fav list or alert list, please remember to review, coz its really unfair to do otherwise. And I'd like to thank my two first reviewers! Luv you guyz! You really made my day!**

**Next chapter sneak preview: some library rearrangement, some boyfriend issues and a pair of lovely dark-brown eyes…**

**Btw,**

**anyone figured out the song the 16 yr old was dancing to? it was Don't Cha!**

**Review, remember!**

**Luv yah!**

**-elixirgurl**


	3. A Visit From An Old Friend

**A/N: and the story continues…**

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"_Very well then. I better get going. Molly's been expecting me for dinner. Is there any thing else you consider important to tell me?" his blue eyes shone through his glasses as if he was looking right through Draco._

_Draco thought of all the things that was bugging him at the moment: his death eater baggage, the grim, his bleak future, the terrible loneliness he felt inside, the attitude of the weasleys, the words of a certain brown eyed, brown haired girl…_

"_Don't think so," he answered dryly. _

"_Alright then. I'll see you soon, Mr. Malfoy…" with a nod and a twisted smile, Dumbledore turned from him and climbing the stairs, exited through the library doors. _

_The minute his bright blue cloak disappeared from sight, Draco leaned back into the chair with a sigh. That man had managed to ring out his self-image. What was he going to do next? Draco couldn't tell – tricky man that was Dumbledore…_

Chapter - 3: A Visit From An Old Friend

Draco awoke to the sound of a dozen heavy volumes of books being thudded onto the table.

He rubbed his eyes groggily with a tired hand and laid back in the squishy armchair in which he had dozed off the other night.

The sunbeams filtering in through the windows fell right across his face, chasing away the impulse to lie back and continue his rest. It brought heat to his contour and he yawned and adjusted his vision to the bright haze of morning light which filled the room…

Stacks of what appeared to be reading manuals piled up in different spots in the library. Erudite volumes of magical encyclopedias were lying on the floor in definite sections and a thousand and one unopened cardboard boxes were placed in the rivets in between.

Was some sort of rearrangement going on? The library he had known yesterday to be so neat and welcoming was now a mess with papers and books scattered all over the rugs and carpets. The books he had chosen for his reading at night were also missing.

Draco stood up and scanned the large room.

There in the corner of the library, he spotted a mass of brown hair leaning down into the bottom shelf of one of the bookcases. A scowl came over his lips.

It was Granger.

She was engaged in pulling out some leather-covered handbooks and skimming through them as if she'd been looking for some particular detail. She hadn't noticed him when he came to stand behind her.

"And what do you think _you're_ doing?"

The startled girl dropped the book and turned back sharply, a light blush painted across her cheeks. "Oh, you're awake," she said, hastily reaching for the book and placing it aside. "Well, I – I was just rearranging this place."

She directed her gaze to the books on the table as she told him.

"It's been used for ages and the previous owners have not been following proper order – I found some of the books to be out of place. Dumbledore ordered a few new prints and he's asked me to keep it here, so I'll have to make room for that." she shrugged, looking back to him.

"- and why exactly are you wasting your time doing this little rearrangement thing when I'm just going to be messing up the whole place again after my reading?" he asked, cocking his eyebrows and leaning on the bookcase.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I'm doing it because Dumbledore told me to do so. And because it'll allow me to leave the library in peace. The books were getting all mouldy and needed some dusting…"

Draco's scowl dropped even deeper. Memories from the previous night flooded his mind. His instinctive dislike for the man returned in full swing. "Why do you always listen to what Dumbledore says?" he said with a scathing pitch. "He's getting old – I suppose his brains are rotting inside his skull…"

Hermione, dusting her hands, got to her feet and faced him. She looked at him earnestly. Draco noticed that the brown of her eyes appeared to be bigger and more soulful in the shade. They looked like deep, dark depths, opened by subtle frames of long lashes which curved at the corners, accentuating their naturality.

"He may be old, Malfoy. But he's the only chance we've got against - against You-Know-Who," she said. "He's the only one You-Know-Who ever feared. Without him, we're just a band of skilled, but useless aurors hanging on what we think is 'real' evidence. We couldn't possibly advance in bringing down the dark side."

"And what about your Potter? Isn't he the one who really stands between the Dark Lord coming back into power?" he asked loftily, earning him a sigh from Hermione, who shifted towards a nearby table and began to leaf through the books on top.

"Harry's there all right. He _is _going to be the one who'll ultimately fight You-Know-Who. But he can't just go out there and fight without any guidance from a reliable source," she said, "and that's why we need Dumbledore."

"You seem to have very little faith in the abilities of your best friend," smirked Draco, drawing closer.

At his words, Hermione turned around sharply. "don't mistake my words, Draco," she said in warning, "I have firm faith in Harry's abilities to defeat You-Know-Who, but I'm just saying that he shouldn't get carried away with his past or emotions, maybe he should start listening to what others say, especially Dumbledore."

The fire that burnt on her cheeks was as visible as the morning sun. Another effect of the natural day light, Draco guessed, because it looked appealing and fierce on her.

With a wider smirk, he continued, "He hasn't quite grown up, has he? Potter? Still needs his headmaster's protection wherever he goes?"

"It's for his own good," she sighed and returned to the books. "Harry's really impulsive at times. If he doesn't learn to control his temper and deal with angst and feeling, he might end up right in the very clutches of the deatheaters…"

"And that's where you come in, right?"

Hermione turned around to be face-to-face with Draco at an intimidatingly close distance. Upon the realization of the fact, she stepped back and hit the tableside.

"I mean, _you are_, of course, the one who takes away all his worries and relaxes him right before the big fight and all, aren't you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes to cold grey slits. There was a sharp edge to his voice which highlighted his utter dislike for their relationship. "-the one who he always calls on for support."

"Well, _yes_, I _am _the one he calls on for support, since I'm his friend and all-"

It was quite hard to talk to him with the alarmingly close distance between them. Hermione had to stumble in her words.

"oh, come on!" he cut in, "I've seen you two before the quidditch matches, hugging and kissing, acting like you were some homeless kids on the street!"

"_What_?" cried Hermione with obvious surprise and indignation. Her cheeks flushed darker and she said, "We did not hug and kiss before matches!! And most of all, we did not act like homeless kids-! And how dare you say something so utterly false and outrageous right to my face!"

"-don't deny it, Granger. There's something going on between you and Potter, isn't there?" Draco asked in a voice dried of emotion. He didn't know why he asked that – but he just knew that right when she had mentioned the scar head's name, he'd developed a sudden itch in the palm, a kind of irritation words could hardly describe. He tried to picture them together – and something stirred inside him that made him want to shred the image in his mind…. He guessed it was just that he wanted to confirm whether his notions were true…

Taking a closer look, Draco found her to be humiliated far too much for words to describe. His lips curled in a twisted smirk. _So, it was true_…

"There's nothing going on between me and Harry, we're just good friends. And by the way, if there was anyone who did really act homeless at Hogwarts, it was _you_, Malfoy," she told him, folding up her hands in front and giving him a defiant stare.

The smirk on his face faded and for a minute, he was really unsure about whether he should smack her or hex her. And he was saved making the choice by a voice from the stairs.

"Hermione?"

Both of them looked up to find Harry standing at the top landing. He was giving them odd looks, and then pointing to the doorway, saying, "we were wondering...you missed breakfast."

"Oh," Hermione blushed harder. She didn't know why she was blushing so much.

She looked at Draco – he was glaring, grey eyes darkened and clouded.

_Confirmed_, he thought.

She looked back at Harry and shouted, "Sorry, had work to do! The library renovation you know…"

The black haired boy nodded and urged her to come up the stairs. Hermione, then turned to Draco and asked, "Won't you be coming?"

"I'm not hungry," he answered, sourness coming off the tip of his tongue.

"Fine," said the girl, and walked off to her friend.

Draco's eyes trailed behind her all the way until she was out the door, followed by Harry, who had been watching him with a serious look on his face. He too disappeared through the doorway only after sending him a heated glare and a frown.

Once they were gone, Draco found himself alone in the room. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, suddenly finding the place to be all still and quiet…the curtains moved just a little in the frail wind and a couple of floorboards creaked, but that was all the noise and movement he sensed. The room reminded him of a ghost's attic, full of boxes and abandoned materials enveloped in deathly silence…

He sighed and sat down in one of the armchairs, lips drawn into a thin, straight line…

**(xxx)**

"Early morning chat with Malfoy? Pleasant way to start a day, isn't it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend. "We were just talking," she said, "About Dumbledore and stuff…and about _other _crazy stuff…" she mumbled in a voice that Harry could not hear.

"How's he fitting in?" asked the black-haired boy, sounding unconcerned.

"Dunno, but I think he's taking it well so far – in the sense that he hasn't hexed anyone till now! I wonder _how _he can stand being in a house with his enemies-"

"Hermione-" Harry stopped her in mid-conversation and came face-to-face with her. "I've got something to ask you: when you were there in the Circle's headquarters, did you see Malfoy show his arm or anything? What did he do to prove that he was a deatheater?"

"Come to think of it, I don't remember him showing them his arm. He just produced a roll of parchment, which I'm guessing was some kind of fake, probably jinxed contract Dumbledore made," she said, trying to remember the incident. "Why'd you ask, Harry?"

"Don't you think it's a little weird to have Voldemort's prison guards release a high security prisoner on grounds of a fake contract? I mean, they are not dumb. We know that." Harry's tone was dead serious and he sounded more than just anxious. Hermione could sense that he was up to something. "Won't they be able to detect something like a fake contract?"

Hermione shrugged, "I-I suppose they could-"

"Somehow, Hermione," stated Harry forcefully, his green eyes flashing, "I don't think it was the contract Dumbledore gave him that he produced."

"But he'd get caught if he simply made up another one, wouldn't he? Dumbledore worked a couple of special spells on this one and I don't think it would have been easy to reproduce…"

Hermione paused. "Harry…" she came to a conclusion that caused her deep dread. "Harry, do you think he made another deal with You-Know-Who…? You know, like a _real _deal?"

She bit her lips as her friend sighed.

"I don't know," he replied slowly. "But I've got a feeling…"

**(xxx)**

They entered into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was found cleaning up after breakfast. She looked up when she spotted Hermione. "_Goodness _Hermione, where were you?" she shot at her immediately with concern. "We sent Ron looking for you! He couldn't find you."

"Well, I can bet Ron to be saying that! There's was a giant, brown spider on the door of the third floor corridor. He would have been too freaked to go past it."

She smiled as Harry muttered, "typical," and took a seat at the end of the long wooden table.

"You know," said Mrs. Weasley as she fetched a bowl and poured in some porridge, "I think it's that _other _boy who's been plotting these things."

"Who? Malfoy?"

"Precisely!" she brought Hermione her breakfast and laid it down on the table. The smell of hot porridge filled the air and Hermione took in a long deep whiff of it.

"Why do you say that, Mrs. Weasley?" she asked, taking a spoon in between her fingers and prodding the contents of the bowl.

"She thinks _he_ sparked your cat into dashing through the table the last time," said Harry tonelessly from beside her. "She's even holding him responsible for replacing the salt with detergent. It made her foam at the mouth – literally."

Hermione laughed slightly.

"Oh, _tush_, Harry!" said Molly, her cheeks going a tad bit red. She then turned to Hermione with an expression of disapproval. "I really don't trust that boy…"

This cut short Hermione's laughter. She stirred the spoon idly in the porridge, watching it swirl.

"He's staying strictly on Dumbledore's orders," continued Mrs. Weasley, "and you wait and watch! - the minute this war is over, he's going straight back to where he belongs!"

"But the Malfoy manor is destroyed, isn't it?" asked Hermione, feeling the harshness in the older woman's voice.

Molly raised her eyebrows, distraught written all over her features. "Is that so?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and readying for a fight. "Well, he definitely doesn't get to stay around here though."

"…not that he'd want to," added Hermione with a pursed scowl.

It was that particular moment that Draco chose to walk in, halting the conversations. He looked around at the people in the room, curious as to why they were all staring at him.

He turned towards Mrs. Wealsey. She was holding a large wooden spoon in her hand, beating it slowly against her palm and glaring at him. "Come for breakfast?" she asked coldly.

He grunted something in response and walked towards the counter. Mrs. Weasley thought better not to acknowledge his presence, for her sake at least. Giving Harry and Hermione knowing looks, she shook her head and returned to the morning chores.

Hermione watched Draco reach for a bowl and fill it up with porridge. Half of her mind was thinking about what Mrs. Weasley had said earlier, about him playing pranks in the house, and the other half was reeling over his appearance.

-there was something very intriguing about him. The utmost coolness and composure of his demeanor, the sickly pale skin, rise of cheekbones. Most of all, the eyes that lighted a shady grey in the sunlight reflecting through the counter glass.

She was caught off guard when he looked her way, and she almost jumped when Harry touched her arm, reminding her to eat.

"Oh, yeah - sorry," she muttered quickly and to cover up for her embarrassment at being caught staring at Malfoy, she cleared her throat and showed Harry quite clearly that she was all set to eat...

**(xxx)**

Draco had his eyebrows raised high over his forehead. In due time, a smirk slowly crawled onto his face, accompanied by a small laugh. The mudblood had been caught staring! – At him, by him! That was a pretty picture, wasn't it?

He couldn't help but take out some sickly pleasure at being treated that way, all because he was simply beautiful – pardon, good-looking. Okay, so maybe there was a bit of scrutiny and suspicion hanging in her gaze, but still, he knew that his charms had worked on her.

And now, she was trying to cover it all up, by returning to her breakfast, with the big brother Potty by her side! Imagine the nerve – sit with your friend and stare at your enemy. Hahahaha. Talk about loyalty! - This had to go down in the book of Hermione Granger's Greatest Faults and Mishaps.

With a wide grin, Draco took his bowl and went out the room.

He went into one of the empty halls and sat down in an armchair to have his breakfast. The satisfaction from the staring incident in kitchen still hadn't come off when suddenly, a smearing pain shot through his neck and into the back of his skull.

"ow!-" he was about to say, but before he got the words out, another spasm of seizure like pain caught him at the back of his shoulders and transcended into head muscles.

The bowl dropped from his hands and crashed onto the floor, the plain porcelain shattering into pieces.

Draco took his head in his hands, shutting his eyes close and trying hard not to scream, for the pain, which was immense, began to traverse down into his body. No sooner had a minute passed, the seizure took control of his whole system, gripping him in hot, ravaging pain.

The pain then turned into anger. Blood-boiling anger. Fury.

Draco felt the binds of control he'd imposed on his mind break. Shivers pummeled his body. He fell over, and fainted.

**(xxx)**

He awoke to a haze of light, faces and red colour. His blurry vision allowed him to see just the patches of black for eyes and the certain outlines for chins and jaws. There were definitely a few Weasleys out there.

"He's awake, mom!" said a high-pitched female voice. The voice pierced through the complete silence of the room, causing his eardrums to throb painfully.

"_Is_ he, dear? Tonks come quickly!!" came another voice from somewhere on his left.

Draco closed his eyes, sensing movement around him. Where was he? He couldn't think. His mind was drained. His head felt light and unstable.

"Move aside, move aside," came a quick bity voice, followed by the sound of shifting feet. "Come on, now."

"Ron, she asked you to move-"

At once, his ears picked up the voice. He recognized this voice. It was Granger's. She was here, was she?

He felt someone hold him up by the shoulders and lean his back against a firm, soft surface. They called his name twice. When he refused to open his eyes, Tonks who had come down beside him, slapped him lightly on the cheek.

"Malfoy, wake up. You're fine," she said loudly to make sure he could hear her.

Draco opened his eyes and stared out blankly at the nearest face. He could make out a mop of fuscia on the top, indicating it to be the colour crazy auror, Tonks. She was peering at him strangely, holding his face by the jaw and turning it left and right.

"Is he okay?" asked Hermione.

"Seems alright to me," replied Tonks, who pulled on the skin underneath his eye. She checked for blood content and let go, giving him another small slap to awaken him completely...

The blurry faces began to develop. The first face he saw after his vision cleared was Harry's. The black-haired boy was standing in front of him with his hands folded, looking down at him through his round-framed glasses with no readable expression. The two youngest Weasley children were on either sides of him, giving him shifty looks.

_I know you would have liked me dead, weasel, but you see, you aren't that lucky._

He managed to get back enough energy to form offense and defense lines, but still unbearably tired too voice them. His whole body felt like it had undergone some kind of shock treatment that raked off him all thought and energy.

A glass of water was given to him by Mrs. Weasley. He took the glass from her and brought it to his lips. As he drank the cool water, his parched throat seemed to dry out even further. "Thanks," he said, laying it on the floor next to him.

Mrs. Wealsey nodded slowly, struck by the word of gratitude. She reached for the glass and put it away.

"What happened?" he asked, wiping his lips with the sleeve of his robe.

"_You_ tell us what happened," said Tonks placing her hands on her hips. The auror was not smiling; she looked a bit intimidating, with the fuscia hair, the fat nose and the demanding stare.

"I don't know," he said tonelessly.

"Well, then, how do you expect _us_ to know what happened?" snapped the auror. "The last thing we saw was you doubling over and passing out before you hit the floor."

"You were bleeding, Malfoy," Hermione said. She was sitting beside him with her hands on her lap, looking at him with concern. "You were bleeding from the nose. That's not a good sign."

"Really?" he asked, trying to sound surprised.

"We heard the sound of something breaking, came out to see you on the floor, shivering. There was blood running from your nose and all over your mouth. We were starting to get worried because you went into a fit of some sort…." she stared at him, as if wanting to see through his mind. "Try remembering what was going through your head at that time."

"I told you I don't know what was going on," he repeated with a little more force.

But though he didn't know what was happening, he had recognized the feeling of blood boiling in a state of complete turmoil – he recognized anger. Right before he passed out, the smearing pain had changed into an uncontrollable fury, heating up his body and throwing him into a state of living hell. He had experienced an unmistaken, infernal blaze of fury that fired through his soul and lit up every fiber of his being with hatred…

But how was it that he felt anger and hatred without even being provoked? If he could recall correctly, there wasn't any cause for him to exhibit such strange behavior…

He looked scornfully at the faces staring at him. It shamed him to know that they'd seen him without his self-control. Hell, god alone knows what not he had done in the moment of weakness!

"Please, just _try_ to remember," Hermione urged him again, but her effort was wasted. He didn't try. Instead, he got to his feet by pushing up against the armchair for support. Without a single word to anyone in the room, he stepped over the rug and walked out the door.

**(xxx)**

The sun was setting low in the afternoon sky, dissolving a crispy orange colour into the clouds over the rooftops, its peripheral ring bent like an archway above the trees at the far distance. Draco folded his hands in front and placed them over the windowsill. The calls of wild birds flying west echoed over the houses. A white delivery truck rolled by on the empty street. The sound of its engine rumming became fainter and fainter as it wheeled further down the road. Draco watched these sights with an uninterested sparkle in his eyes.

The afternoon had some unexpected visitors: aurors from Romania, the Hagrid oaf and his giantess had paid their visits. Draco had enjoyed their suspicion, rudeness and insolence so much, to such a great degree that he couldn't have been found wanting for more, and he ultimately had to shut himself up in the library to escape their vicious attacks against him and his father.

Draco leaned against the windowsill and took in a long waft of cool, relaxing air. He could still hear their grunts from downstairs, talking as if they were to win the war tomorrow.

Honestly, what did they think about themselves? They were giants, a menace to wizard kind, dumb, stupid, and everything synonymous to that. There wasn't even enough respect to go around in the ministry for them to get a decent job!

"Pathetic excuses for lumps of meat! I'd show them where they're supposed to be standing! _Stupid creatures,_ trying to tell me where I should be-"

His words and curses were cut short when he heard the sound of the door close behind him.

He turned around to see his potion master, Serverus Snape, standing at the top of the stairs, his face ashen. Having spent most of his time at Hogwarts with him, Draco could make out that there was something bothering him.

"Snape," said Draco, breathing slow and deep. "What brings you down here? Aren't you supposed to be out there with the second Weasley?"

Serverus stared down at the young Malfoy, a look of utter displeasure forming over his features. "What use is it to keep tabs a flimsy dragon-slayer when all we require is in this very house?" asked the professor, fixing up the room with soundproof spells. "…possibly planning for next Christmas and worrying about the likes of his friends, unaware of the war that has taken a new turn…"

He came down the stairs slowly and stood beside him, keeping his gaze on Draco all along. "You know I'm talking about Potter, don't you?"

Draco smirked smugly. "Why would I doubt that? He is anyways the most _unworthy _hero of all wizard time! Born with a scar that doesn't even do good to his _face_! I'd like to see him stand up to the Dark Lord this time!"

"Which brings us to the point, Draco… I'm afraid your – your _act _of disloyalty has reached the Dark Lord," said Snape.

"Has it, really?" repeated Draco with calm composure and least interest, though the words shook him on the inside.

The professor was watching him very carefully now, searching every minute detail of his face. "It has. And He is very, _very _angry with you."

"Good."

The professor was startled by his reaction. In all his life, he'd never seen anyone respond in such a way to the mention of the Dark Lord's anger, except maybe Dumbledore. And he refused to believe that this teenaged boy was brave enough to oppose the Dark Lord's great powers which mere, condescending mockery…

"He's coming after you, you know that don't you?" continued the professor in a staid tone. "And when you fall into his hands, he's going to kill you. You know that too, don't you?"

"I know," replied Draco coolly.

The professor scowled. It was sad to know that someone with so much potential and influence was turning away from the path set for him – that too, to die a most painful death.

Sighing, he asked, "Draco, do you remember anything of what I've taught you?"

"Of course I remember. Everything, from the tardy night lessons, to the beatings, to my father's requests and my mother's persistence. I remember _everything_, Serverus."

Snape's face darkened partly due to the fact that his harsh, almost cruel, punishments were still fresh in the boy's mind, and partly due to the fact that his lessons had gone awaste.

He asked him if it were his final decision to turn away from the Dark Lord.

And when Draco replied that it was, the professor, both disappointed and furious, broke out in a snarl, "young _boy_, what do you think you are doing with your life? Don't you see, you are going to _die_ – By joining the other side, you've betrayed Him! That too, _after_ pledging your alliance!"

Draco's lips curled, but he kept his silence. He knew this was coming. He knew he'd have to face the fury of his teacher someday. Allowing his words to wash over him, Draco listened half-heartedly.

"You're a fool," spat Snape, "working for the order will give you nothing you desire. Not even a peace of mind."

"I know what I'm doing," Draco said slowly.

"No, you don't!" shouted Snape, his face livid, "the consequences of your action is _death,_ and had you known it, you would have never chosen to turn away! Tell me, who's been putting you up to this?"

"No one's been putting me up to this, Snape," Draco told him, shooting him a cold, grey, almost stabbing look from his side. "It was solely my decision…in fact, it's been my decision all along…"

There was the firm, resolute determination of a fighter that rested beneath his shallow depths – and Snape had seen it for the first time. His fury subsided into a depression caused by disappointment.

"Just tell me why," he said in a low, defeated tone. "Tell me why you're inflicting harm on yourself like this… I deserve to know."

Draco stared at the man, long and hard. It was true that he deserved to know. Serverus was the one who had given him a base in the dark arts, trained him in Occluumency(along with Umbridge) and other forms of important magic. He had seen to it that Draco knew himself and his magic thoroughly. He moulded Draco to serve the dark side. It was with his help that Draco had gained the very first access to the Dark Lord and to the reign of Power. His every expectation was inside Draco - to see him as a faithful servant to the Dark Lord, like himself…

"You want to know why I broke away from the Dark Lord?" said Draco with newfound determination and courage surfacing in him. "Fine then. It was because I realized the irony in serving someone and gaining power."

"You are serving Him for a greater purpose. You are using your life for His benefit."

"Well, I don't do things for other's benefits, be it whosoever…and I don't think that there is a greater purpose in my life for which I should work. Anyways, we're all just weary travelers with destinations that lay buried under the soil. I just want to get there some day, whether I accomplish anything or not…"

Snape sighed, realizing that what the boy what the boy most wanted. He also understood why he'd chosen his own path. "I understand. You don't have faith."

"I'm afraid I haven't," said Draco cuttingly.

"Fine. Then, I'm wasting my time over here…"

Draco looked into the lifeless black eyes boring into his, gleaming unsightly. He could see that Snape had received a terrible thwart.

The last time their eyes met, his was full of loathing and hatred like Draco had never seen before. Before he left, Snape paused at the bottom of the stairs. With his back turned to Draco, he said, "I hope you know that the minute I step out this room, we will be on opposite sides."

Draco sucked in the emotion that began to surface at the mention of those words and shook his head. "Yes, I know," he said tonelessly.

"And you do know that the next time I see you, Draco, I'll _kill_ you."

Draco nodded as the professor climbed up the stairs. "I know," he said once the door closed. "I know…."

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**A/N: and thus, Draco's life gets all the more twisted with Snape threatening him and all…the story is _definitely_ moving. things get going to get darker and deeper…so, be prepared!**

**A couple of people had pointed out some spelling mistakes and stuff in the first two chapters – thanks guys! I've corrected them.**

**And, oh yeah!**

**Announcement: I finished this story! on Sunday, 29th October, 12:28 AM. yay:-)**

**Do tell me what you thought about this chapter, whether it was up to your expectations or not? Whether you were able to catch the flow of the story and all and I'll make changes accordingly.**

**Next chapter sneak preview: some legilimency, rainy weather and hopeless hopes and a talk about the redemption our favorite character so needs….**

**Buh-bye!**

**-ELX**


	4. Confession

**A/N: after another long, tiring wait, I've come up with another exciting chapter, purely for your enjoyment! **

**Before you start reading, let me clear out some stuff:-**

**Legilimency is the skill to extract thoughts and memories from a person's mind, often done with intense eye contact. Occlumency is the skill for blocking legilimens from penetrating into one's mind.**

**This chapter is really emotional and tragic and yeah, filled with explanations and stuff. so, you betters watch out for that! Anyways, I'm not going to go on spilling out its contents for you like this to spoil the fun. go read it and find out for yourself why our hero's life is in such great peril…**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Before he left, Snape paused at the bottom of the stairs. With his back turned to Draco, he said, "I hope you know that the minute I step out this room, we will be on opposite sides."_

_Draco sucked in the emotion that began to surface at the mention of those words and shook his head. "Yes, I know," he said tonelessly._

"_And you do know that the next time I see you, Draco, I'll kill you."_

_Draco nodded as the professor climbed up the stairs. "I know," he said once the door closed. "I know…"_

Chapter-4: Confession

Hermione was waiting in the hallway outside the library for the professor to come out. Her strange concern for Malfoy's health after his fainting in the morning and her curiosity in Snape's uninformed visit got her thinking that maybe Malfoy had gotten himself into trouble of some sort after the seizure.

she breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened, then tensed up again when the greasy-haired professor came out.

He walked by without acknowledging her presence and disappeared down the hallway.

Hermione knew that not even been his student for 7 years and exhibiting excellent skills at potion making would fetch her a second glance from him, because he after all was the slimy, cruel, git of a potion master, Serverus Snape. It would be stupid to expect anything else from him.

She opened the door of the library and stepped inside.

Inside, Draco was tossing aside a few books onto an empty armchair. He looked up at her when she entered, stared for a second or two, and then, turned to one of the tables and began flipping through some books noisily. "What've you come here for, Granger?" he asked, partly relieved to be talking to someone who wasn't planning to kill him (yet).

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," she answered softly, with mild concern.

"As you can see, I'm _fine_! I haven't been falling all over the place, half dead and bleeding to be spirited back into consciousness by dumb colour-crazy aurors and beaver-toothed know-it-alls," snapped an irritant Draco, slamming shut the cover of the book, sending out a cloud of dust into the air.

"Oh," she said, feeling unbearably stupid and nosy. She felt the puncture in her pride take out all her enthusiasm and well-being. Now she was staring to feel that having concern for Malfoy was a nonsensical and fruitless thing.

She grimaced and said with sarcasm, "sorry I asked. I just forgot, Malfoy's are just the most self-sufficient people around. They don't need anybody's care."

"You've got that right. They don't _need _anything."

"Funny," she said with a light laugh, "it seems like just yesterday I met someone with a lonesome stare and invisible companion, trudging the hallways to find wicked ways to insult other people's pets… to compensate for the terrible losses he faces on the inside I dare say. The same person was found fainting today morning, in dire need of medical attention and assistance…so, are you sure you don't _need_ anything or anyone?"

"I'm damn sure, Granger. But if someone _cares_, I can't help but lean a little on it," he added with an upward twist forming at his lips. "- Does not mean I need them."

"What if it was someone's care or concern that could save your life someday?" asked the smart Gryffindor, "won't you be needing them, then?"

All the while, he had his back towards her. He was guessing the expression on her face - would it be something signifying disgust, or growing embarrassment - if she had taken it personally.

But on her tricky question, he halted the guesswork, and turned around to see that her real expression was something beyond disgust – it was hate. For she really did hate him when he said that.

"Even if the person was a rat arse. To save your life, anyone will do, right?"

He laughed on the inside at her words, but felt rather humbled later when he realized that with her prolonged silence, he had really hurt her pride and at the same time, seen right through her.

"You care for me, don't you?" he asked, leaning against the table.

"What?" stumbled Hermione quickly, before gathering herself and grimly protesting, "of course not! I'm just worried, Malfoy. That's all," she stated, fidgeting with a side button on her robe. Her face began to heat up, and to avoid him seeing it, she moved to a nearby table, pretending to be sorting out the books.

"What are you so worried about?" he asked snidely.

"Well, nothing really…just _things_…"

She gave a vague reply, praying that he wouldn't ask anything more, for she didn't know how she was going to handle the situation if he saw through her again. If he _ever _knew that she had been concerned about his health and had been worrying about it all day, he'd probably tease her senseless about it or never look in her direction again!

"What kind of things?" he prodded on, watching her with interest.

Hermione spotted a biography lying on the table, which had to be placed into one of the top shelves. Taking in a deep breath, she reached for it and walked up to the bookcase, saying curtly, "it's none of your concern."

"Of course, it isn't any of my concerns!" cried Draco, pretending to be offended. "I'm just curious."

Hermione gave him a sideways glare and returned to the bookcase. With ill luck, she found the original place of the biography to be too high to reach with her hands, and clicking her tongue, spied the wooden ladder for sometime before pulling it towards the bookcase. She climbed onto the first few steps carefully, aware of the imbalance of her posture and the discomfort of her interfering robe.

Draco walked over and leaned against the bookcase next to her. He folded up his hands, smirking. "Worried about the war, Granger? Your personal safety? Or are you worried about _me_?"

At present, Hermione was most worried about the dangling length of her skirt and the coverage of her robe – but she didn't let anything show her worry and remained concentrated in making it to the top steps, repelling any thoughts relating to the particularly quirky tone of his voice.

She pushed the book into its slot, blowing off some dust from the shelf slab, then, slowly and carefully, began to make her way down….

"I'd say you are, unless you're worried about your stupid boyfriend, Potter, sad that you won't be able to have _babies_ in the next few years because of the dark forecast of the war and all…"

Honestly, he loved the expression that came across her face just then.

_Draco, you have got to hand to yourself man, you can really make the girls go mad! _– He applauded himself silently.

But just as he finished thinking that little self-praising thought, Hermione stepped over the end of her robe and _BAM_!

She slipped on the step, lost balance and fell from the ladder with a squeal.

For a minute, Draco just stood there, staring open-mouthed at the freely falling body, unaware of what to do, then, before he knew it, he'd caught her fall.

Heroic, cliché, whatever you would call it – but he held her around the waist, trying to regain feeling in his legs which were pushed down in the force of her fall. _Ouch_, he thought, _this was hard. Would she just stop kicking?_

Hermione had covered her face in her hands, too embarrassed to even look around. She knew that she had fallen. She also knew she never reached the ground. She could feel the hold of someone around her, another warm body against her, holding her up.

She inched her fingers away from her eyes and peaked out at her savior –

_DAMN!!_ She thought, shutting her fingers around her eye again. _Damn! Damn! Double damn!_

-she'd landed into _Malfoy's arms_!!

"Hermione, please," he said with a bit of struggle for breath, "I'd appreciate it if you'd stop kicking.- "

"You called me 'Hermione'!!" she cried out suddenly, removing her hands from her face. The thrill and disbelief of hearing him say her name overwhelmed her, temporarily making her forget their situation.

"_Yes_. Yes, I _did_," he said, "-wasn't intended, but I did. _Now_-"

He stared into her big, brown eyes, full of surprise, for a brief moment, admiring their beauty. They were lovely, large and soulful. He'd never seen eyes like hers before.

Hermione felt her feet touch the flooring, the grip around her waist loosening. She was so in disbelief about hearing her name from his lips that she didn't realize that he hadn't taken his hands away and was still holding her lightly.

A kind of warmth was spreading through Draco's cheeks when he saw how close they were. The only time she'd been this close to him before was in the forest, during the fog. That time, she'd cuddled into him, partly to feel his presence so that she wouldn't lose him and partly to feel the warmth of a body close by, for the chill had been excruciating.

The warmth spread down his throat and heated him inside his robes, making the room feel stuffy and hot. He wasn't quite sure why he was blushing like this, but he guessed it was something to do with the funny feeling he had stuck in his throat…

Hermione stared into the clear, silver eyes, entranced by their sparkle and light. The hazy grey outline was visible like a ring around a bottomless silver ocean. Her gaze was transfixed in their enigma and unearthly lure.

Malfoy had never been this close to her, but now, as she began to realize the small distance between them, her thoughts were whirling, scanning her memory for any instant in her life when she'd found such thrill in weakness.

And suddenly, the world around her faded, and she was whisked away into those darkening eyes…

she saw the strangest things: a tall, aristocratic man with his hair in a ponytail, pointing his wand towards a small scared boy of about 10; the cold, sneering face of a house head… a dark, moonless night in a forest, a few hooded men with their wands out, a leader rising out of blue fog in their midst, his face inhumanly scaled…

She saw the first face of Lord Voldemort. The red, snake like eyes, gaunt cheekbones, wounded slits across the ear surface…

Blocked in a hazy, dream-like world, Hermione watched fearfully as his body gained shape in the form of a wraithlike, black shadow, which disappeared into the tall, shifting grass of the clearing. Then, it struck her - she was seeing one of Draco's memories…

The form appeared to be hovering above the ground, speaking words she did not understand – snake language. Her insides did a somersault as she saw a smaller hooded figure step up in front, towards the unearthly form.

That was _him_, she realized. That was _Draco_.

Panic raked her on the inside and her heart began to beat wildly in an uncontrollably fast pace as the form glided over to him and spoke in low tones, before a taller hooded figure walked up to him and seized his left arm.

_What were they going to do to him? Why wasn't Draco protesting?_ All kinds of crazy thoughts and worries flooded Hermione's mind. She couldn't believe that she was inside one of his memories, living such a nightmare.

The Dark Lord raised a decayed, ashen hand and moved it over the hood, which fell off to reveal a bowed silvery blonde head.

_No, it couldn't…this couldn't be…this didn't happen…_

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears. She placed a trembling hand on her lips and watched the boy lift his head to face the wraithlike form, fear and immovable resolute displayed across his features.

_No, he didn't…_thoughts turned upside down, hopes shattered. Her faith in Draco died the instant the other figure lifted up his sleeve, readying him to receive the searing Dark Mark.

The wand was placed down on his white skin.

Draco turned his head away, closing his eyes, waiting for the excruciating pain to come…

The next second, the night sky lighted up with a blaze of yellow light, which blinded even the stars. The whole forest lit up with the fluorescent glow spreading through the trees and shrubs.

….the Dark Mark had been branded onto Draco's arm….

A jolt at the back of her neck brought her back to reality. All force of her penetration was repelled and the insight into his thoughts and memories was blocked with occulemcy.

Hermione came out of the trace-like state, shaking, dazed and confused. Her insides were gripped with frozen fear.

She couldn't believe that she'd seen what she'd seen.

And all this while, she thought he was _innocent_…

"Granger?"

Draco's voice seemed so distant, almost unreal. The world around her was moving; the ground appeared to be shifting beneath her feet.

She caught on to Draco's arm, trying hard to steady herself. _No, I couldn't…he didn't…_

She didn't know why she was still protesting. The facts were clear, weren't they? She'd seen it.

_But how could he-? Draco? What was he thinking?_

She looked into his eyes, afraid about what would happen if she allowed herself to drown in them one more time.

The thing was, when they had made such intense eye contact, she'd unconsciously performed legilimency, allowing her to penetrate thought and see into his mind. It was completely unintentional; she wasn't exactly paying attention to what she was doing.

And he was unguarded.

"Draco, I – I-"

His face was cold and hard, looking almost murderous with the steely glint in his eyes. "_What did you see_?" he rasped.

Hermione sighed and looked away, trying to clear her mind. God, she'd been so wrong… it was the only thing she could think of at the moment, for her mind just seemed to be frozen by the truth.

Deciding that her views and feelings shouldn't get in the way, she looked back at him boldly. "You're a death eater, Malfoy," she said. She took her hands from him and crossed them in front.

Draco eyes darkened to a shade of murky black...

_So, she'd seen it_, he thought. She had seen his worst memory.

"Yes, I am."

He thought that maybe he had seen a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, or was it just movement somewhere outside the window reflected in them?

Inside him, something collapsed. He felt like he was standing in front of her, stark of integrity.

"I - I didn't want you to see that," he said dryly, trying to break the awkward silence forming between them.

But she wasn't intent on saying anything back; she didn't want to talk to him. Her whole idea about him was now horribly violated. Unknowingly, she placed a hand over her lips, silently wishing him to go away.

"Please…" he said, reaching for her arm. "Try to understand…it's not what you think."

She slapped his hand away and said in a tiny whisper, "Just _go_."

Draco watched her for a minute, wondering what she was about to do. Her eyes were strangely watery, they looked full.

"Just…" she leaned back on the ladder and shrugged, "just go!"

**(xxx)**

The afternoon sun had completely descended among the farthest row of houses, and darkness was falling over the town. Rain clouds dotted the horizon, black puffs up against the blue-black sky, lighting up with occasional lightning and thunder.

Inside her room, Hermione sat cuddled into a big green armchair, stroking her cat, which was curled up in her lap.

"And you know what he said, Crookshangs?" she asked it, tugging at its soft, pink ears.

"He said he was a deatheater…."

The cat meowed and licked its paws. It then sprang from her lap onto the tabletop, knocked down the reading lamp and leaped down towards the door through which it silkily passed and disappeared from view.

"You wouldn't understand would you?" she called back at it, "after all, you're a cat…"

Scowling, she threw her legs over the edge of the chair and was readying herself to get up when the door swung open and Ginny came in. "hey Gin," said Hermione with a small smile, sitting back up in the chair.

Ginny smiled at her and sat down at the end of her bed. She was looking oddly flustered, and slightly unhappy, though she was smiling.

Hermione noticed how she was straightening out the pleats of her skirt and fingering them down, and taking the action as a hint, asked, "Hey, what's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing," came her soft, tired reply.

"Really? You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm _sure_ – well, there is this _one_ thing…"

Hermione's lips were twitching. She knew that the uncertain, distracted look on Ginny's face could indicate just one thing –

"And what's that?" she asked.

After a long, hesitant pause, Ginny looked up into her eyes and shrugged, "its Harry…"

"What did he do?" asked Hermione, her smile breaking out finally.

She knew that both of them fancied each other more than they knew themselves. She wasn't blind. She'd been witness to their love blooming right from their first days at Hogwarts. Though Ginny had realized her feeling for Harry, Harry hadn't.

"He didn't do _anything_, that's what he did," said girl, frowning. "I don't know why he's so clueless! He's always so clueless!"

"But he likes you! He really does! You're perfect for each other!" exclaimed Hermione trying to cheer the girl up, but her efforts were in vain.

"Likes me? _Likes_ me? Hello! If he liked me, he would have at least picked up the hints! Like, how long does he think I'm going to wait? Till the next millennia?" cried the frustrated redhead.

"Don't say that, Ginny…maybe he's just having a tough time right now, with the war and all. He's preparing himself to fight, remember?"

Seeing the disappointed look on her face, Hermione added, "you're his girl, Gin'! You know it, though he doesn't. Meanwhile, just _try_ to _understand_ his position…"

_Try to understand…_

_Try to understand…_

She remembered Draco saying those words. The memory plunged through her like a slab of ice. Unknowingly, her face muscles tightened and she shifted in her chair, suddenly feeling outraged.

He asked her to understand? Understand what? The fact that he was a sodding deatheater with the mark on his arm? Boy, that was an easy thing to do!

What next? He was born with muggle parents and dumped in an orphanage at the age of three?

She looked away from Ginny, not wanting her to see her expression.

"Yeah, I try to understand. Try to understand _nothing_! He's mad I tell you! - maybe I should go out there and attack him!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stared out the window. The dark rain clouds were fast approaching. A spark of lighting lit up the whole bottom layer of the cloud, making it look like a skeleton across the sky.

"Ginny, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Do you think we'll win this war?"

"…I definitely do! Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, I guess. I just – just have a strange feeling…I mean, what if we _don't _win? We're a lot to lose, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are. But I bet Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen."

"But Dumbledore's getting old. He can't always be there for us."

"Well, we have to learn to fight for ourselves then, shouldn't we? There's no other way."

Hermione sighed.

"I would like to think so too."

**(xxx)**

Dinner was a quiet affair as there had been news of death eater sightings in a nearby town. Arthur Weasley strictly warned all of them against going outdoors at any time of the day and had pointed a finger particularly to the twins who wore looks of complete comprehension, pretending to be terrified of the situation.

"under no _condition_ are you two to step outside the house unless it is with Dumbledore's knowledge of your whereabouts, you hear me?" shouted the balding father, "if any of you chose to disobey this rule, you shall find your things packed and set to leave the order before you can say 'unfair'."

Hermione's heart beat faster and faster as she thought about deatheaters in the town. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if they ever found out the Order headquarters! It would be the end of all things good.

Plus, she had other reasons for fearing them now: her escape with Draco made him cheat them, thus endangering his life too. Draco's life was on the line along with theirs.

She told herself that she didn't care, that she couldn't be bothered about someone who was so despicably narrow-minded and shallow so as to have once joined the Dark Lord in his activities, no matter what his contribution to the Order was. She told herself that Draco Malfoy was simply a directionless, pitiable, prude figure to whom she had never been linked in any way.

But her conflicting feelings about him kept on messing up her thoughts. On one hand, she knew that she was concerned about him – she had _always_ been concerned about him.

Right from her days at Hogwarts, the boy had captivated her. His ego fights, shallow tongue, pride, jealousy for her friend's position at the school had evoked deep, agonizing sympathy in her. Sympathy that was almost hard to contain when she saw him miserable after the holidays or after receiving post. Instinct forced her to believe that he was having a hard time at home and that he was under some sort of pressure, and that was why he was acting so vilely towards her and her friends.

That was the reason why she thought he was innocent, that was the reason why she_ almost_ believed in him…his hateful nature was due to an external influence, formed by situations around him, and not because he himself was evil.

She knew that there was hope for redemption, but now, redemption itself was too late…

The dark, stormy clouds rumbled with thunder. The whole land lighted up with occasional lightning, like an X-ray across rooftops and street lamps. The cold, freezing winds of an oncoming rain shower wiped through the house.

Hermione tightened her robe around her, trying to brace herself against the cold wind. Her cheeks were dry and frozen.

She was walking along the third floor corridor, eager to get back to her room and sit by the fire when out of the blue, along with the howl of the wind, she heard a human cry.

It was muffled and appeared to be coming from one of the rooms to her left.

There was a second cry, and her ears rang with the sound…someone was in pain.

Hermione moved quickly towards a door, pressed her ears against it. No, it wasn't from this room…

The cries kept getting louder and louder, and more desperate. Hermione could hear her own heart beat just as loud and clear as she stood outside each door and listened for the noise.

Finally, she came to a door behind which she heard the crashing of a dozen glass objects. Standing outside, she hesitated, scared whether it was Draco –

She placed her hand on the doorknob, pleading with some unseen force for the cries not to be Draco's, for she was terrified of something happening to him. Something bad. Like the seizure he had in the morning….

The doorknob turned and she opened the door.

**(xxx)**

The room was littered with papers and other objects. A desk had been overturned; shattered pieces of glass were lying all around it. A dozen beautiful vases and glass presents were destroyed with a swift motion of a hand.

Right next to the fireplace was a disheveled looking Draco Malfoy with his face held in his hands, breathing hard. He was on his knees, shoulders shaking.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and at once, startled by the touch, removed his hands from his face and looked up. "Granger…"

His throat went dry when he saw her look down at him like that – eyes full of compassion, eyebrows knitted with concern. He hastily rubbed down on his face the tears that had seeped out during the burning seizure and got to his knees.

Hermione was standing right next to him, her eyes never quite leaving his. She waited for him to look around at what he had done to the room, then, when his gaze was back on her, said coolly, "you've been having those seizures a lot recently. Last time, it wasn't so serious, but this time, I think you've done fairly enough damage to the surroundings to make us take you seriously…"

She handed him a handkerchief and asked him to wipe the blood from his nose.

Draco stared at her long and hard, taking the handkerchief from her.

"Why would _you_ want to take it seriously?" he asked dryly, wiping his nose and lips. He folded back the cloth; his heart skipped a beat when he saw the dark red colour all over it. Bloody hell, he'd have to get used to that.

"Because if someone else doesn't, you won't! And that will probably get you killed! Maybe us too."

"Come on, you're starting to sound like my mother…"

He was about to turn away, putting the handkerchief in his pocket, when Hermione stopped him and said, "no, Malfoy. Your mother wouldn't have sounded like that. And stop turning away! _I want the truth_! What's been happening to you, Malfoy?"

"You want the _truth_?!" he asked raising his voice and facing her. "_Fine_ then! I'm a deatheater about to be sentenced to death by the Dark Lord himself! I'm about to get slaughtered out there the minute I step out of this house, but you know what, I'm welcoming it coz I'm so sick of you all acting like I'm your _biggest_ enemy! And you want to know another thing; my life is OVER as I know it, and nothings going to change the past!"

he continued sardonically, "and here's the happy part: the minute you defeat the Dark Lord, the minute he loses his powers and dies, I will die too, coz I happened to be a bloody _stupid_ bloody deatheater and his blood runs in me!!"

He breathed hard and looked at her darkly, "was this what you expected?"

Without waiting for an answer, he came down on the corner of the bed, breathing hard. His mind had been numb from the seizure; every vein in his body had been bursting with uncontrollable negative energy. In fact, he had almost lost consciousness fighting it.

Draco had realized what the seizure actually was: it was Lord Voldemort's fury, flowing through his blood. And he was experiencing it because deatheaters shared His feelings and emotions. The Dark Mark indicated the presence of Him inside the wizard, making him His permanent supporter.

Lord Voldemort was probably furious about Draco's disloyalty and cheating, as he was the heir to the Rising Throne and an inner member of the Circle. He'd been confided in and was a valuable source of information. His betrayal would have infuriated the Dark Lord beyond anything else in the whole world, or he wouldn't have experienced such a burning seizure.

He also had reason to believe that the Dark Lord was angry about something other than him – for the past many weeks, he'd been trying to get a certain elusive stone claimed to be with the good side. The Stone of Eternal Life. Its powers gave him control over the universe as he knew it and with the stone in his hands, he could destroy any force that stood in his way, whether it be good or bad. But Voldemort has been unsuccessful at finding it and his constant failure may have sparked fury.

Draco felt unreasonably tired. Every fiber in his body was now exhausted.

He couldn't see reason in thinking or worrying.

He closed his grey eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"But that's what it is, Granger," he admitted, "that's how it's going to end."

The bed springs underneath creaked as the weight on them increased. Hermione sat down beside him. She breathed a sigh and looked at him earnestly. "I feel sorry for you, Malfoy," she said.

Malfoy looked strangely at her, but with complete understanding of what she meant. "_You do_?"

She nodded and continued, "all this time, I thought that maybe – just maybe you would change, that someday, you would take a side and fight your enemy boldly…but now, I've realized that you haven't changed. And – and there's no point in fighting because your biggest enemy is _you yourself_!"

She paused, watching Draco's expression solidify with contempt and shame.

"Draco…I – I think I understand-but you've got to be honest with me."

Draco's grey eyes, lighted by the firelight, appeared to be glinting mesmerizingly. They were focused on her, unmoving, staring at her in a way that slightly unnerved her. She could see his confusion in wanting to confide in her.

"Please," she said softly, "I can help you-"

Draco flinched at the thought.

She was trying to help him, trying to help him see light, Draco told himself a million million times.

Hermione Granger, the girl for whom he could only muster contempt, the girl to whom he could only say spiteful words and hateful insults, the girl who always paraded around with his high school enemy, wanted to help him – at this dire time in his life.

It did not make _sense_!

"It's just a question," she told, leaning closer, "just one simple question…"

Draco's mind went berserk with wild thoughts, hair-raising conclusions: she sincerely wanted to help him, and he really wanted someone to know. He didn't want to be treated like dirt by the house members any more, and this was the opportunity…but it didn't make sense that he should tell her anything…

"I want to know whether you made the decision with your full mind…the decision to become a deatheater."

Draco swallowed.

_This is it, Draco,_ a voice kept telling him inside his head, _this is it. This is the chance you have been waiting for! This is your chance for redemption…_

Sweat formed on his eyebrows. He became dreadfully aware of her long, burning stare, determined to see right through him.

_This is your last chance, Draco…your last chance to show her your motive. If you lie now, you will lose her confidence forever. If you lie now, she'll never look at you again in the same way she's looking at you right now…and you want that. You know you do.._

_Your last chance, Draco…_

God, why was it so hard?

He clenched his fists and said, "Yes."

The minute the word left his mouth, Draco cursed himself. _Damn_, he thought, _I did it again_!

Hermione sighed. She got up and looked down at him.

"Then, you _deserve_ to die," she said.

She got up from the bed and was about to leave the room when Draco called out, "yes, it was something I did with my full-mind. I did it because I thought it'd bring me power and give me a peace of mind… but now, I've started to think-"

"Now? You've started to think now?"

She turned back to him. "If you would have started thinking _before _the dark mark was branded onto your arm, then maybe, just maybe, things would have been different…"

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed, placing her hands on her hips. The strings of her heart were being twisted together, but still, she had to say the words.

**(xxx)**

Hermione exited the room feeling extremely down and disappointed. Her face showed the hopelessness she found in the situation.

Draco was a deatheater, he now wanted to get himself out of the mess he'd created for himself - but there was no way out other than death or suicide. The worst part was that it was causing _her _great anxiety and agitation, not to mention, it was her stress levels that were rising up more quickly than his.

For a moment, Hermione regretted saying such harsh words to him. She knew that she had gone over-board with her know-it-all nature, but nothing stopped her from saying what she felt at that particular moment. She couldn't believe that she'd told Draco that he deserved to die like that. It seemed almost unnatural to her, as if the words were spoken by someone other than her….

She stood at the door, her hand still resting on the doorknob, pondering over whether to go back in again and say something else to him, something hopefully more polite and stable, but she couldn't think of anything and decided that it was best if she'd didn't go pouring out her feelings any further.

Quietly, she turned around, and almost screamed when she saw Harry standing there in the shadows.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" she asked, moving towards him.

Harry was not smiling; his eyes were narrowed and glinting. The usual peace on his face was disturbed. "I'd like to ask you the same," he said, sounding cold and distant.

"I was just investigating the sounds…"

She trailed off; when it struck her like a ton of bricks that he knew the answer. The look in his eyes said it all.

"Harry…" she started, breathing uneasily.

"I heard," he snapped, "So he's a deatheater, isn't he?"

Hermione sighed.

She didn't want Harry to find out this way. Now, he'd be hating Draco more than ever, and suspecting her of being on his side…

Harry simply kept watching her, a scowl forming deeper and deeper on his lips. He sighed and stared intently into his friend's face. "Hermione, you care for him. You care for him in the way you care for me…just _why_?"

"I don't know."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

She looked down at his shoes, her head bowed with guilt.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know…"

**(xxx)**

That night, when the whole house was asleep and resting and the cuckoo tower was striking 12, Draco opened the door of his room and slipped outside. The invisibility cloak hanging over one arm, he tiptoed down the corridor and climbed down the stairs, carefully trying to make no noise.

The dinning chairs were all pulled up over the table, which gleamed in the moonlight pouring in through the large side window. Draco passed by the table and went into the living room, from where he collected a robe and a couple of port keys, put them into his pocket and headed to the front door exit.

The lamps were glowing brightly, spreading luminance that seemed unworldly along with the layers of moonlight. Fingers sliding against the walls, wand held outside, Draco turned around and scanned the place to ensure that he was alone, then, quietly, he put on his cloak, reached for the doorknob, and slipped out….

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**A/N: AND _BHAM_! Our fav character is really in for it! trust Draco to ruin a perfectly good moment with a bit of his shady past! But ah, that's just _him_! always trying his best to put himself into the picture…**

**So, how do you like the story? going according to your expectations? Do remember to write down your views and opinions and send them to me via your reviews! Till then,**

**See ya!**

**Next chapter sneak preview:**

"**I'm afraid he's gone back because he's losing faith in himself and his ability to deal with his two sided image," said Dumbledore gravely. **

"**So you mean to say he's gone back _to die_?" asked Harry incredulously.**

**Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose so. Once he's within the grasp of the deatheaters, they are sure to kill him for his disloyalty. The price for disloyalty is often death."**


	5. Castle Of Kings

**A/N: HEY PPLE! I'm back, fresh after my exams and ready to kick back into the world of fanfiction with CC! Chapter-5, here it comes! Enjoy:-)**

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_That night, when the whole house was asleep and resting and the cuckoo tower was striking 12, Draco opened the door of his room and slipped outside. The invisibility cloak hanging over one arm, he tiptoed down the corridor and climbed down the stairs, carefully trying to make no noise._

_The dinning chairs were all pulled up over the table, which gleamed in the moonlight pouring in through the large side window. Draco passed by the table and went into the living room, from where he collected a robe and a couple of port keys, put them into his pocket and headed to the front door exit._

_The lamps were glowing brightly, spreading luminance that seemed unworldly along with the layers of moonlight. Fingers sliding against the walls, wand held outside, Draco turned around and scanned the place to ensure that he was alone, then, quietly, he put on his cloak, reached for the doorknob, and slipped out…_

Chapter-5: Castle Of Kings

It had been days since Harry had found himself content or resting. With the war and the defense strategies and prophecies and all, Harry had been pulled to the limits and there was not a single moment in his life which was spent not thinking about his major role in fighting the dark side.

But after he had come to find out that Draco was a deatheater, his peace of mind had completely left him. He realized that fighting the dark side began with fighting internal battles and finding peace within the Order.

He wanted Draco to be expelled from the Order, because of the potential threat he posed to its safety. He knew instinctively that Draco had left the Order to join with the dark forces and that his status of a spy was more or less relevant to the dark side.

Talking to Dumbledore the next day didn't make things better.

Dumbledore had full mind to keep the boy in the Order on account of his spy status and expressed confidence in his loyalty to their side. He said he couldn't believe Draco to serve the Dark Lord even if his life depended on it…

This, Harry couldn't believe, because knowing his childhood enemy, the thirst for power and fame would have led him to serve Voldemort unconditionally.

Unsatisfied and angry after his fruitless meeting with Dumbledore, Harry walked into the living room where Hermione was sitting on the couch, reading. She looked up when she saw him and seeing the expression on his face, asked what was wrong.

"I can't prove anything," he said angrily, sitting down beside her. "Even Dumbledore believes he's innocent!"

"Oh."

"Well, you can't say much can you? You've already made up your mind about him!"

"Yes, I have."

"You're on his side, then?"

"I'm on _both_ your sides."

Harry shook his head, unable to believe that his friend was still supporting Draco.

"God, Hermione, I wish you would just start _thinking_!!" he said harshly and exited the room.

Hermione closed her book and rubbed her eyes. She was tired of Harry's outbursts and thoughtless accusations. She knew that he was under a lot of pressure recently but his words were really starting to sting.

She sighed, wondering why Harry wanted to use her feelings against her this way.

_Maybe he just doesn't want to see me hurt, maybe he think that siding with Draco would leave me in ruins. But it's not like I'm going to do something utterly impulsive and irrational for him!_

With those thoughts of consolation in her heart, Hermione opened her book to resume reading. An hour into reading when her mind stopped absorbing the pre-read facts, Harry appeared at the door again.

"He's is not here," he said, his face contracted with worry. "Hermione, Malfoy's missing…"

**(xxx)**

The large, stone chamber might have once been a place of untamed revelry. A place where stuffed pig and grapes were served on embellished silver platters to kings and emperors and wine flowed like water into the goblets of many a drunken page.

The magnificent chandelier hanging from the mural ceiling would have hosted a hundred lighted candles, basking the room with a glow so inviting and rich, it became an object of pride to the king in power and a source of entertainment to the old couples who, watching it, would exchange stories and experiences from their lives.

But now, the long, wooden table was empty. There were no more clattering of dishes and clinking of water goblets. There was no stuffed pig or fountains of wine. The candles in the fireplace had burnt down into their pools of wax, the room was lifeless, dark, and grey expect for moonlight coming in from the windows.

At the end of the table was a tyrannical, inhuman force, hovering in the shadows. A hood was pulled over its head and covered most of its face and it spoke in a low, raspy tone to a small, rat-faced man.

"All this time I've been waiting, Wormtail," the voice said, "for the opportune moment to prove my powers against those of fate and destiny. And now, the opportune moment has come…"

The man squeaked, shaking his head reverently. "Yes, master. The moment to bestow your wrath upon those who had once condemned you has come. You must be very very happy to know that the execution of your plan was perfect and that the boy shall return here and give you answers to the questions you've always been looking for."

"Oh, you mistake me again, Wormtail…" the Dark Lord said uncaringly, "it is not the execution of the plans that has made me happy, but the ghost of what we will establish soon."

He turned to Wormtail and showed him his decaying smile.

"By the time the sun disappears tomorrow, we shall take over the whole of the magical community. Dumbledore will be dead by my order and that foolish Harry Potter will perish with his own angst and loathing…."

"And what about the Lucius' boy? What shall we do with him?"

"…Draco…he is the most deceitful follower I have _ever had_!"

Lord Voldemort emitted a low growl and Wormtail bowed his head, indicating that he understood his fury.

"Draco shall be dealt with immediately after the war. The dementors will be commanded and I can assure you that he is going to pay with every bit of life he has left…"

Wormtail smiled wryly, lifting up his head to face his master, "master, can it be so that the Order has been informed of our little visit tomorrow?"

"How can they be informed?" said the hooded figure with a cold laugh. "Their _means_ is in my hands…"

**(xxx)**

He was in an alleyway, grimy walls rose above him and broken shop windows stared him down from either side. Through the leftover shards, he could make out the storage materials inside-all sorts of wooden barrels, bags of gunpowder, wheelbarrows. Rain poured down in pellets, splattering over the starchy velvet of his robes and rolling down in beads to the end of the cloth. The soot mixed with mud and residues splashed onto the walls with every step he took in the stagnating puddles as he ran across the dingy way to the opening into the dead muggle street.

His shoulders felt heavy with the exertion; there was no one around, and the streets were swimming in the dirty water that was flowing in through passageways in between buildings. But the lack of noise was what unnerved him into thinking of the scenario as a trap. Lack of noise was the calm and composure before the winding storm.

A striped grey cat screeched and sprang towards him out of the garbage cans at the corner, paws outstretched, ready for attack. On reflex, he reached for his wand, then, froze along with the winds above-his wand was gone.

The feline screeched again and it fell over behind him, in a ball and rolled onto the pavement, and disappeared behind a tree.

For a second, he watched its stiff grey tail vanish behind it, then, his attention shifted to the breaking of skies and the frigorific gusts of rain. It felt like drops of ice upon his forehead, slipping into the neck of shirt and chilling him inside. No sooner was he aware of the atmosphere turning frigid, like his voice, he began to run once again.

…._Dementors_…

Swooping up behind him were beings in long, wispy clothes, their tails disappearing into the night. He could hear their breath, their parched breaths, and he tried to make it faster.

Their wraithlike presence surrounded him in stirring black clouds to shut out the sky.

His jaws were shut tight due to the fear of being hunted and due to the cold that was making his bones feel like ice, every fiber in his body was responding to them.

He had been chased into a muddy school ground and was now in clear view for the dementors to perform their kiss. Knowing this, Draco jumped over the seesaw and dashed into the nearby trees.

Then, he heard them – cracks in between the trees.

The deatheaters were here.

He stopped running and turned, and came face to face with a circle of hooded figures standing around him.

_Wow_, he thought, looking into each one of their hoods, _surrounded by deatheaters and dementors! What else could you ask for?_

The chill had resided, though the rain was still falling. Dementors hovered high in the clouds over the land, ready to take him down the minute he stepped into a clearing.

"You want to kill me, do it quickly then!" Draco called to the deatheaters. "Come on, what're you waiting for? I'm defenseless right now!"

There was never a point in Draco's life when he'd felt so much humiliation and relief at the same time! He was really burning on the inside with shame at having to give himself to the arms of death so easily, without even putting up a fight – but that was what he wanted right now. That was why he had come out here.

He wanted to end his pathetic, aimless life. He wanted to quit all his duties and obligations, he wanted to drop all his morals….he felt like a lifeless scummy artwork of some sort.

There were eight deatheaters standing like pillars around him. Out of the eight, one stepped in front with his wand out.

"Not now, Draco," he said. "But soon…."

Draco didn't have the time to register his words. Before that, an elbow stabbed him right at the back and he was knocked unconscious.

As his body crumpled onto the muddy ground with rain splashing over his face and robes, the man walked up to him and leaned in to check if he was still alive. Finding a pulse, he gave a nod the deatheaters, then, straightened back up.

"You _miserable little scoundrel_-"

He was about to kick him in the sides when one of the deatheaters spoke suddenly, "no, Travers. Do not harm him."

The man turned around. "What do you mean? He's a dead fish anyway."

"You forget that he is my _son_," said the other deatheater. "Should you harm him before he is transported, I shall be forced to use my magic on you…."

"I – I understand, Lucius," said Travers with humiliation.

Lucius looked down at Draco's form and scowled. _He could have been so much more…_

He then turned back to the deatheater, saying, "Do us a favor and take him to the Circle and get him to speak up – quickly."

**(xxx)**

_Ugh, when – just when did I tell myself that I wouldn't be doing this? _

The evening mist hung low over the ground and Hermione could not see past the posts, to the end of the street. Pale yellow light from shops painted the road for some distance before mixing and disappearing with the mist. Hogsmeade stores were still open, defying threats and warnings.

It was reliving to have some normal, wizarding movement around at this hour, whether it be the wand keeper rearranging the cases at the shop window, or Madame Rosemerta coming out to throw out the garbage, or the screeches and yells from the pet shop.

The sounds and movement and the free people would be a contrast to the atmosphere of the place she was going to. There would be no wagons parked outside the stores, no lollipop merchants, no pink faced, chocolate-frog-eating children. As far as the ears could strain, there would be only deathly silence and vague, uncanny sounds of a forest.

As Hermione climbed up the familiar slope, she asked herself again: _ugh, when – just when did I tell myself that I wouldn't be doing this? Just when did I tell myself that I wouldn't do anything impulsive and irrational – and look at me now!!_

She reached the top of the hill and stood there for a while, wondering how she could get to the forest.

Last time, Draco had apparated here, but looking around, Hermione found no port key or vanishing cabinet.

_So, just how did he do it?_

Hermione thought and thought.

Draco was the only one who knew where the Circle's headquarters was, so maybe he just tried visualizing it or something, like how they did for the order. Maybe it was some place through which she could go to only with strong visualization…there were such places in the wizarding world. She'd only read about them though.

So, giving it a try, Hermione remembered the line of trees, the polar balance and the tall bush with the ring and forced a descriptive image into her mind, repeating strongly, "forest of czars, the forest of czars…"

**(xxx)**

The trees were whispering among themselves of the defeated warrior who walked handcuffed through their midst. The wind seemed to be singing a silent lament with the moon and the stars, receiving the warrior back into its arms.

"I told you _I don't know_!" shouted Draco for the third time that night. "I don't know where the stone is! If you fellows weren't clever enough to figure it out, then don't point to me and expect an answer!!"

He struggled as the handcuffs cut into his skin. "You_ imbecile…_!"

"Call me that one for time and I'll make sure the metal reaches your bone," said Travers maliciously.

He relished the expression that came over Draco's face and continued, "I know I'm wasting my time_ asking _you for the answer…."

With a swift movement of his wand, Draco was bound onto one of the trees by an invisible force and Travers put two drops of _veritaserum_ into his mouth.

"Now, tell me, _where is the stone_?"

He leaned triumphantly over him with a smirk, sure of an answer.

"I don't know," replied Draco tonelessly. He tried to shift under the binds but his attempts were futile and the handcuffs were starting to cut in deeper.

Travers eyes were narrowed into slits.

"You're pathetic!" he snarled, his nose trills flaring.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, now tell me something I don't know-"

"_No_, now you tell me something I don't know!"

Draco tilted his head, pretending to be expecting another question to which he couldn't give an answer.

"Where is the headquarters of the _Order of the Phoenix_?"

_What?_ Thought Draco.

Suddenly, the binds around him seemed to be tightened, making it difficult for him to breathe.

No, he couldn't tell them…he shouldn't….

Travers smiled watching Draco stumble for words. He pushed his wand into his throat and repeated the question.

Draco closed his eyes, trying his best to prevent the words from going out of his mouth. _No, no! You can't say it, Draco! They should not know…_

In an unrealistic moment in time, Draco let out the words.

He could hear his heart thumping in his ears.

Travers' eyes glinted and he smirked. "Excellent. We'll be attacking at dawn, thanks to you."

He undid the charm and Draco was free again except for the handcuffs.

He was still against the tree, unable to believe what he'd said…

_They'll attack at dawn. Draco, the order is going down because of you…_

"Didn't Snape tell you?" he asked.

"Snape didn't tell us nothing. Maybe he wanted the full blame to fall on you…"

Draco looked the deatheater straight in the eye. "He's been planning this all along, hasn't he?"

He didn't have to see his smirk to make out the answer.

_Snape… It was all Snape's doing all along!_

Draco clenched his fists with anger.

_Snape…_

Oh, how he hated the man…

Fury leashed out into his system. He began to tremble with loathing for the potion master.

For the first time in his life, Draco felt hatred enough to kill…

"You're so gullible, Draco…. Always siding with who you think is right, unaware of the consequences."

Travers laughed mockingly at him.

"and now, your guts are about to be fried in deatheater hell, and might I tell you, the Dark Lord is not going to be pleased when he sees you after destroying the Order…."

"He's already gone, isn't he? He's not at the headquarters, right?" asked Draco, turning away and preparing to walk on into the woods.

"Not yet. But since you've already told me the site of the Order, all it will take is _time_ to communicate it to him and soon, he's going to unleash his real power over the petty, useless aurors and that foolish old coot, _Dumbledore_…"

**(xxx)**

Harry walked back and forth across the room, stomping heavily on the carpeted flooring.

The minute Dumbledore walked in, he stormed at him angrily, "SHE'S GONE! SHE'S GONE, AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Dumbledore raised a hand, asking the boy to calm down. His face had lost its colour and a faint grey appeared along his temples. He looked at least 40 years older, with wrinkles dotting almost every bit of his face and sagging bags under his blue, twinkling eyes.

"Harry-"

"DON'T TELL ME TO UNDERSTAND!" he shouted, coming towards Dumbledore. In his blindness over the situation, he knocked down a spider legged end table containing a glass orb, which fell onto the carpet and rolled towards a far corner. "SHE'S MY BEST FRIEND AND SHE WOULDN'T HAVE GONE BEHIND MALFOY IF YOU WOULD HAVE EXPELLED HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"Malfoy has no reason to be expelled-"

"HE'S A DEATHEATER, BOUND TO SERVE VOLDEMORT FOR ALL TIME TO COME!! HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT HE COULD POSSIBLY SERVE THE ORDER WITHOUT AN ULTERIOR MOTIVE?! … AND NOW, HERMIONE IS MISSING TOO! GONE BEHIND THAT SCALLYWAG LIKE HE WAS SOMEONE WORTH IT!"

"Harry, DO NOT think that you are the _only _one who cares for Miss Granger-" said Dumbledore in a sharp tone. "Once again I'm asking you to calm down and see through the situation. Take a seat and we'll talk about it."

He pointed to the armchairs and motioned him to sit.

Harry glared at Dumbledore, breathing deeply. Shaking his head, he came down heavily in the armchair.

Dumbledore sat down composedly opposite to him, folding his hands and looking Harry through his half-moon glasses. "Now, tell me, what makes you think that Miss Granger's life is in danger. Is it because you think that Draco has gone to the Circle headquarters to join with the Dark Lord and you fear her capture again?"

"_Yes_," stated Harry, rubbing sweat off his forehead. "I could make out her concern for Malfoy when I heard them talk. It was like though she knew it was a hopeless case, she still believed in him. I don't understand why, the only thing he ever did was insult her-"

"And save her life," added Dumbledore with a hint of a smile.

"-that was because _you _asked him to! He would have never done it otherwise! _You _gave him the contract, _you_ told him where she was, _you_ were with him every step along the way to make sure that he did nothing wrong!"

"but it wasn't me who had to shed blood for her, or who had to put down my life for her, or had to mess up his deatheater status to save her life…I only asked him to do me a favour, and he, surprisingly, didn't object to it."

Dumbledore leaned in front and brought down his hands on his knees. "Harry, you have no idea how much Draco had to go through to prove himself to the Order. He's been through difficult times, Harry – _very difficult times_ in his life. Just like you! And I can't believe that he'd go through all that trouble for nothing! He's here for redemption."

"Well…then…"

Harry scratched his head, feeling a puncture to his pride. he looked at Dumbledore straight in the eye and asked, "-then, why has he gone back to the Circle? What has he still got to do with it?"

"I'm afraid he's gone back because he's losing faith in himself and his ability to deal with his two sided image," said Dumbledore gravely.

"So you mean to say he's gone back _to die_?" asked Harry incredulously.

Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose so. Once he's within the grasp of the deatheaters, they are sure to kill him for his disloyalty. The price for disloyalty is often death."

Harry took his time to get the situation clear in his head. He began to think about Draco's sacrifice.

"Professor, you said he'd shed his blood for her. But if I recall correctly, he was not injured in any way."

"Do you remember me telling you about a contract that Draco had to produce before the Circle to free Hermione?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you see, I don't think that contract was _accepted _and so, I'm guessing that Draco had promised something of his to get her out."

"You mean, he made his _own _contract? His _own _deal with Voldemort?"

"It appears to be so. He would have probably promised the Circle something so pure and unmistakably concrete, they would have never doubted his intentions."

"What - did he promise them his _life_ or something?"

"Maybe."

Harry sat in stunned silence, his mouth slightly open, unable to believe his ears.

"You see, it would be a senseless action for a deatheater to give his life for the freedom of a captive, so the Circle, well-assured and satisfied about Draco's intention, made a contract in blood."

"Well….then…"

Harry fumbled around for words, still doubting the situation, but his anger had dissolved into understanding. "He… he's not like-"

"Like what you expected? Yes, of course! Harry, I know you both have been enemies your whole life, but you've got to resolve your differences and start acting like a part of the same family, because whether you like it or not, you both are on the same side. He goes down, we go down too."

"But we won't go down, will we?" asked Harry uncertainly. "I mean, unless they know our hideout, they can't attack, can they?"

"What makes you think they don't know about our hideout, Harry?"

Dumbledore titled his head and gave him a pursed smile. His blue eyes twinkled uncannily like he was asking him to think further.

"If they've caught Draco, they're bound to get answers from him… - a stupid point Draco had failed to consider before going out for death. Anyhow, what is will be said will be said and there's nothing we can do about it."

Harry sighed, feeling the pressure of the war return.

"We should alert the others," said Harry in a commanding voice, "we must prepare them for the final battle!"

He turned towards Dumbledore, a worried expression on his face, but before he could ask what was on his mind, Dumbledore answered assuringly, "You need not be worried about Miss Granger. She's been in the forest before, she can do it again. And it is _my_ faith that she will return with Malfoy and fight by our side once again…"

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**A/N: chapter-5, Castle Of Kings, there you go! Any comments? **

**Christmas is here, wooohooo! Wishing you guys a Very Merry Christmas! God bless ya'll! I'm all ready to spread some Christmas cheer, so is anyone's got a fic that needs a hand, just let me know!**

**Particularly on this event, I have a few thanks-you's to say:-**

**To the pple who've put CC on their fav lists : **

**shadowfox1186 – love you, sweetie! You've really made my day! you were the first person to put CC on her fav list!! One really sunny smile coming your way:-)**

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**Autumn's-Smile – thanks for reading:-)**

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**Corporal Scarlett – gurl, don't I have you to thank! Your first suggestion about making this fic a bit more dramatic was immediately taken into consideration and I'm so glad to know that you found the next chapter extremely entertaining!! 3 cheers to Corporal Scarlett for giving me a background check on the entertainment value of CC! hope you continue reading…**

**DarkWolfX – yes, dearie, there most probably will be a sequel if this story gains more appeal. I've thought out a rough sketch for its continuation, but I'll start writing it only on account of this fic's performance. The total number of chapters in this story is 9, I think. long, gripping, heart-wrenching chapters, I hope them to be. Thanks for reading! Luv yah!**

**GryffJr, Melodylzx – glad to know that you found the story to be full of suspense! Luv you, TC!**

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**Xanthia Nightshade, inge-loves-lost, spacesareoverrated – thank you for reading. Hope you guys find the next (the last) few chapters very entertaining and gripping…3 cheers to you three!**

**A special, warm and hearty thanks to xX JK Rowling The 2nd Xx :- to my dear friend zoey, who is top of her English class, a caring and spontaneous writer and a really great person! 3 cheers for you too! Sincerely hoping your fics are doing well, luv, ELX.**

**PPLE, IF YOU HAVE THE TIME, DO CHECK OUT xX JK Rowling The 2nd Xx's fics, esp The Silver Butterfly, on which she's working right now!**

**To all the other reviewers, named and unnamed, luv you all for your continuous support!!**

**Next chapter sneak preview:**

**Prison again with Knot and Grant, an enchanted river where in our hero finds his strength and the cold hands of death reaching out over the world, ensnaring it within its cruel grasp…yes, character death specified.**

**So, bite your nails! **

**See ya soon!  
**

**-ELX**


	6. Flight Of The Phoenix

**A/N: long time no see, I know. three months since the last update, I know. story losing effect, I know. me taken life-altering exams, do you know? well, yeah…bin studying like hell. Plus, I din have net connection for like 3 WHOLE MONTHS! Curses…anyways, now I'm back and ready to kick on with this story! **

……

**Now were did we last stop?...oh yeah, Malfoy gets caught! **

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"_If they've caught Draco, they're bound to get answers from him… - a stupid point Draco had failed to consider before going out for death. Anyhow, what is will be said will be said and there's nothing we can do about it."_

_Harry sighed, feeling the pressure of the war return. _

"_We should alert the others," said Harry in a commanding voice, "we must prepare them for the final battle!" _

_He turned towards Dumbledore, a worried expression on his face, but before he could ask what was on his mind, Dumbledore answered assuringly, "You need not be worried about Miss Granger. She's been in the forest before, she can do it again. And it is my faith that she will return with Malfoy and fight by our side once again…"_

Chapter-6: Flight of the Phoenix

Hermione could hear the two men from outside the prison door.

"betcha 10 Nuts, 41 Sickles and 8 pieces of goblin gold that 'Array Potter will have his spleen taken out by Crabbe sans wand. The boy is a weak dumpling of bones, rest assured of his great fall due to poor adolescent health!"

"The boy is strong in the heart and in the mind, my friend. I may not be so sure about Crabbe's doing if I were you."

"Crabbe is a fine boy, ready to take on anything. A petty boy like Potter will be a walk in the park fer him. Come on, Nott, or are yer a coward, afraid to lose yer gold? I say Crabbe will break his back, and _kill_ the boy!"

waiting outside deatheater prison, enduring the cold winds on top of the mountain along with the fear of being caught wasn't exactly the easiest thing for Hermione to do, but with caution and patience, crouched behind the bushes, she waited for the two men to lose themselves in the spirit of the bet and at the right moment, she slipped in and hid behind Nott's desk.

"Proud, arrogant rat, he is, that 'Arry Potter!" swore Grant, balling his fists into his hands and striding the corridor. Hermione crouched up behind the desk, trying to disappear completely in the shadow underneath it.

She could see Draco in the cell opposite to her, sitting with his back against the wall, rolling a stone across the floor. His robes were dirtied, splotched with mud and grime. A few leaves stood out from in between his silky blonde hair.

Hermione remembered the time when she was in that same cell, shouting her throat hoarse at the guards and Draco came in through the door with the contract. The moment played in her mind as if it had happened just yesterday. The debt had caused her to come to the Circle and save his life. She knew that if she'd let him die without even trying to help him escape, the guilt would never let her rest in peace.

Hermione stopped breathing when Grant leaned back against the desk.

"Whach yer lookin' at, yer scoundrel?" he asked Draco, who shrugged and returned to the stone he was rolling. "His face looks like a wilted sunflower, especially with that mop of yellow 'air on his head, doesn't he, Nott?"

The other wizard grunted.

"Filthy animal! Lying to the Dark Lord, giving up the most coveted position of all wizard kind – the heir to the Rising Throne, fer some girlie who wouldn't even give him a second glance! Sad, ain't it mate?"

Draco shot him a glare from his side and stared back at the stone, trying not to pay attention to what they'd said.

"_Poor_ little _rich _boy! Got his little beating heart broken…" Grant made a sad face and then burst out laughing. "But I must tell yer, yer bonnylace was really pretty. She had a pretty name – 'Ermy on my Knee or sumthin was it?"

Underneath the desk, Hermione cursed silently. She took out a dagger from the waist pouch of her robe and threatened to poke his butt with it, but thankfully, didn't have to use it.

Grant, swinging himself with glee watching the boy wither in his cell, walked up to the prison bars and peered through it.

"Contract in blood? End yer life fer someone who isn't even worth a hair on yer body…?"

Hermione chose this precise moment to get up from behind the desk and pull out her wand.

"_Stupefy_!" she shouted at Grant and the next second, the body fell motionless onto the floor.

In the split second he got, Nott sent out sparks from his wand, and then pointed it at Hermione.

But he wasn't quick enough to work both the spells, thus receiving her stun with full blast.

When both the bodies were motionless on the floor, Hermione lowered her wand and turned towards Draco.

He was up on his feet, leaning against the bars. "Hermione? What are you doing here?" he asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Saving you of course."

She walked over to him, kicking Grant in the ribs and mumbling something about pronouncing her name properly.

"No! No! You've _got_ to go back!!" cried Draco, banging his hands against the bars. "The Dark Lord is going to destroy the Order! You've got to go back and inform them about his attack! Hermione, _what are you doing_?!!"

She was tapping her wand fervently on the lock. "I'm trying to get you out-"

"_Why_?!"

"Because I'm indebted to!"

"But the Dark Lord is going to-"

"_I don't care_!"

She looked him in the eye and said firmly, "and even if I go now, I won't be able to get there in time. And I'll have to see your death too."

"Hermione…?"

She was furiously tapping the lock with her wand, repeatedly muttering spells, trying to lift the charm. Finally, when nothing was working, she tried pulling at the bars and loosening its screws with a bit of magic. But the railed door stayed in its place as if it were glued on to the ceiling and the floor.

She turned to Draco with her hands on her hips. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" asked Draco, pretending not to get the point. He looked around the cell with his hands put into the pockets of his robe.

"_How did you get me out of here last time_?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know."

Hermione's lip curled and she looked at him contemptuously. "Listen, you _insolent_ little piece of _owl_ dropping! I didn't come all the way to this ghastly place to go back empty handed, okay? I've risked almost everything I've got by making this journey and I'm doing it for _you_, as you had done the same thing for me quite some time back, if you remember! Now, if you are so insistent about rotting in deatheater prison,_ fine_! So be it! But as long as I'M standing here before you, breathing this non-existent, filthy air, THAT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! I won't let it happen! You get it??"

She breathed in deeply and removed her hands from her hips.

"See, I can't let you give up your life just because you thought you didn't have a choice," she told him earnestly, placing her hands on the railing and gripping it tightly. "Please, just tell me how you did it…"

Draco sighed and walked up to her.

He looked straight into her eyes, her large, soulful brown eyes that shone with sincerity. Gosh, he'd always admired their beauty.

"I- I made a contract in blood," he said half-ashamed.

"You _what_-?" cried Hermione, moving back from the railing.

"Yeah, Granger, that's what I did," he repeated himself dryly. "I made a contract in blood. That was how I got you out."

"So, you didn't use the contract Dumbledore gave you?"

"No, I couldn't."

"Why?"

"Because the Circle wouldn't accept it! It wasn't good enough for them to give me charge of a prisoner."

"So, you made your own contract? Were you mad?"

Hermione cried out in frustration. "Ugh, Harry told me you would have done _something_ like this!! Oh, how could I have not seen it-!!"

She stopped suddenly and pulled out the dagger from her waist pouch.

"I think I know what to do."

Draco's heart skipped a beat when he saw the silver dagger held up in her hand. Its beautiful steel surface was glimmering in the faint lighting in the corridor. It looked dangerous, and to think it was in such frail, petite hands…

"What are you going to do-? don't be _stupid_-!"

She lowered the dagger and ran it through her left palm. The blood from the cut sprayed onto the lock and in an instant, the charms lifted and the railing door slid open.

Draco stared as the bars disappeared into the wall. "Oh," he said, stepping out of the cell. "So that was how they did it, huh? I do it for you, you do it for me sort of thing…I'll keep that in mind…"

Hermione squeezed the cut on her hand, trying to make the flow stop. She dropped the dagger onto the floor and turned away from him. "Yeah. I – I should have known. Voldemort wouldn't set-settle for anything less _crude_-"

The wound was searing, as the dagger had cut in deeper than she'd wanted it to. Pressing harder against it only forced out more blood. "Ouch-"

"Show it to me."

Draco took her hand and examined the wound. He gave it a small squeeze, making her shrink back with pain.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

He let go of her hand and walked over to one of the bodies, tore a long strip of cloth from their robe and tied it around her wound.

"No, it really is _okay_-" she was going to say but he forcibly tightened the cloth around her palm and soon, it was soaked red with blood. Not wanting to fuss over it, she motioned Draco to the door and said "come on, lets go."

"But what about your-" started Draco.

"I CAN HANDLE IT!" she shouted from the door and soon, she had disappeared out into the night.

Draco watched her go, then turned to Grant and Nott.

"Scoundrels…" he said. He retrieved his wand from their pocket and put a permanent stun on them before following Hermione out the door.

**(xxx)**

The deatheaters were moving stealthily through the alleyways of Hogsmeade. Their attacks were quiet and often single-handed. They'd had closed down four shops and attacked a pet market so far. The northern bit of the town was slowly darkening with broken street lamps and extinguished firelight.

Hours passed and the tiny group of deatheaters scattered and began to loot the godowns and other storage places. Lucius was in charge and commanded silent killing of the villagers inside their houses. He warned them against making noise and unnecessary movement.

Snape who was hiding in the backyard of one of the houses looked over the rooftops to the highest point in the sky.

There, glowing green and silver were a set of sparks, fused into the sky as strangely radiant stars.

"Lucius," he called out to the man crouched behind the swing.

He pointed to the sky.

The hooded head turned to the stars. For a long time, both of them stood looking, then, Snape said, "The boy has escaped."

"Serverus," said Lucius in a cold, determined voice, "you know what to do… see that he's _finished_!"

**(xxx)**

The mountains were not far behind and it was still cold from yesterday's rain shower.

There was faint light showing at the top of the hills, signaling the break of dawn.

Draco's heart kept beating louder and louder every time he looked across the sky.

_Travers had said they'd attack at dawn…_

He couldn't help but feel sick thinking about what he'd done. Because of him, the Order was going to face a surprise attack, that too, not just any surprise attack: the _final_ battle between the sides…

He prayed that the Order would not lose, at whatever cost. Though they were not the most welcoming bunch, they certainly were skilled and would give Draco a life even after the war, even if it was one where he was locked up in an attic and cleaning trophies for the rest of his life! As for the other side, the side he'd been raised to serve, he would be punished with death if they won or lost…

And he didn't want the Dark Side to win … not just because he hated the people and power play, it was also because he wanted a life after hearing the words of a certain brown eyed, brown haired girl…

The thought filled him with devout fervor.

He looked at the girl in front, pushing through the trees and forest shrubs. She too gave him a reason to fight – she believed in him all this while, even when he was about to give himself into the arms of death. And she came after him. She risked her life for him…

And it made him think. Think about him – and what he'd been doing in his life.

A small, weary smile graced his lips as he watched the form stumble on her way, her soiled cream robe dragging over the forest floor.

But the minute she turned back, the smile disappeared and he was back to his normal sour-faced gutless Malfoy.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

Draco leaned against a tree trunk and listened to the sounds of the forest. "Hear what?"

"Water _flowing_…"

Her voice trailed off and she gazed dazedly into the woods.

Draco came and stood beside her, hoping to catch the sound from her position. "Water…?"

Then, he heard it…

The sound of water flowing somewhere. It sounded like a river or a brook or something was nearby.

He motioned Hermione to follow him into the woods, in the direction of the sound. They passed through stark darkness for a while, then, light broke through at the end of what seemed to be a thick gathering of trees.

A beautiful river flowed through the woods, with sparkling white waters and foaming waves lashing at the grassy shores lined with orchids and dandelions. Trees bowed over the swirling, gushing surface, its fruits and flowers hanging down from its broad branches, forming a canopy of colour.

Draco looked along the banks and found the origin of the river to be hidden far inside the mountains. Its endless end flowed into the light pink sky.

"The River of Pure Goodness," came a dazed voice from behind him.

Hermione stared in wonder at the sight of the river.

Draco nodded and walked up to the banks where a large boulder lay among a bed of yellow orchids. He sat down on it and looked out at the river.

"I know this river! The only thing is, I've never seen it…" Hermione gushed like the foaming currents of the water. "This is the River of Pure Goodness, Draco! It heals and calms and soothes even the _deadliest_ of wounds and shifts from place to place so that none can catch sight of it…"

She took off her slippers and wet her ankles with the water. "Legend has it that the goddess Neptune created this river for her weary soldiers who would come back from battle and drink its waters to refresh themselves. It also says that she had dropped an anointed stone into the water in hope that her soldiers would catch it, which they didn't. This stone is supposed to bring eternal life and glory to the person in possession of it! Draco, _this is it_! This is where we can find the Stone of Eternal Life!!"

"Oh, really?" Draco cocked his head her way and smirked.

Hermione clicked her tongue. "Don't you see? This is what wizards have been fighting over for the last many centauries! But they've never been able to find it. I've heard Dumbledore say that Voldemort's after the stone, but he's never been able to get hold of it!"

"And where exactly is this stone?"

"At the bottom of the river."

"Oh. Nice."

Draco received a punch on the shoulder.

"We've got to retrieve it and destroy it," said Hermione hurriedly. "Before it's too late."

"Yeah, we should do that. I mean, maybe we could just transfigure ourselves into fish and float on the top of the water for all time to come. I can already imagine you with gills coming out of your ears."

Draco's sarcasm was ignored by Hermione and she went back to the water.

A few moments passed like that, with Hermione washing her hands in the river water and Draco focusing on the grey sky ahead. It was getting lighter and lighter…a faint pink gleam was starting to appear at the end of the river.

_Dawn_, thought Draco, _the dreaded dawn…_

"Hermione, there's something I have to tell you-"

He was interrupted by a squeal. He turned around and found Hermione closely examining her hand.

"They're gone!" she cried, showing him her palm. "My wounds are gone!!"

Draco jumped off the boulder and rushed to her. "I can't believe it!" he said, finding no trace of the dagger cut on her palm. "It's gone! This really is _enchanted _river…"

And just as the word left his mouth, he noticed a silver glimmer across the water. "Hey…"

The silver glimmer broadened. Side by side, another silver streak appeared, moving towards them.

Hermione put down her hands, watching two fin like structures come up from the water.

The foaming waves lathered through her feet, hitting her legs and causing her to faintly lose balance. It seemed to want to take her with it.

The river water surrounded her legs up to half of her calf, then, she felt it-

Something touched her feet. Something smooth and rubbery.

She moved back, but the sediment underneath her gave away and she had to step back into the water for balance.

She saw something move beneath the water, something white and silver…

To take a closer look, she leaned in….

A white face with a long snout stared back at her. It lifted itself from the water and popped its head out.

"A river dolphin," Draco sneered, looking at it with a smirk, "wow, I was kind of expecting a water bunny!"

The beautiful silver dolphin played at her feet. Its snout rubbed against her skin in a friendly gesture of contact.

The other dolphin, grey in colour except for its silvery fins, swam beneath the shallow waters near the shore. It then snubbed something out of the river.

Along with the foaming water appeared a palm-sized red stone.

The dolphin moved it up against the shore with its snout and forced Draco to take it.

"Look! It's asking you to have it!" cried Hermione, pointing at the stone.

"That's no ordinary stone, Hermione," said Draco with barely enough voice for her to hear. He gulped and continued, "That's the stone from the river…that's the Stone of Eternal Life. The one the Dark Lord is looking for…"

He stared into her eyes and watch dread and fear surface in them.

He bent down and took the stone into his hands.

He felt the glassy red surface, the cuts and dimensions, wondering if he had gained eternal life already….

"STOP THERE, DRACO!!" shouted a voice from the other side of the river.

Draco and Hermione looked up. On the other bank stood their potion master, his wand out.

Hermione stared at him with narrowed eyes, "Snape? How on earth did he get here?!"

"Wouldn't you know it? He's a bloody deatheater," mumbled Draco, watching the man cast a freezing charm across the water. A thin arch bridge of ice formed over it and Snape crossed it.

"Keep your wand at the ready," he whispered to Hermione, "get ready to kill."

"What?"

"Do as _I say_!"

"Draco, Draco, why must we go through this? I am not here to hurt you," said the man coolly. "Just give me the stone and we're done…"

"Over my dead body, Serverus!" shouted Draco, pocketing the stone. "I know you're here for the stone _and _you're going to kill me!"

"Of course not. Don't be silly boy!" laughed Snape, coming closer. "Why would I want to kill you? Just give me the stone. I shall return it to Dumbledore."

"He's lying," Draco whispered to Hermione who nodded urgently. "He's not loyal to Dumbledore-"

"Ah, look at what our master has sent for us!" Snape cried suddenly, pointing to the sky. "A golden savoir at sunrise…"

Draco and Hermione turned to the skies. There, among the pink-grey clouds was a gliding golden body. Its wings seemed to be set ablaze with the first rays of the sun breaking in through the sky. Its beautiful red head was cocked atop a long feathery neck, elegantly poised in flight.

Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawks….

Snape chose the moment to get the stone into his hands.

"_Accio _stone!" he repeated in his mind and the stone vaporized into his hands. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Draco suddenly noticing the movement at his side, turned around, just in time to see Hermione fall stiff onto the ground.

"Hermione!!" he cried, bending down beside her.

_No! No…she wasn't- _

He pressed his finger down at her wrist and failed to detect a pulse.

He looked venomously towards Snape, who was smirking triumphantly. "What have you done to her, you mongrel!?"

"I'm afraid I just killed her," shrugged Snape. "And now that she's gone, Draco, I think we can get down to business…"

"You're going to kill me?" shouted Draco, standing up and reaching for his wand.

He received the biggest shock of his life when he realized that his wand was not with him. Neither was the stone - He checked his pockets. "What the-"

"Not there? Maybe if you look around, you'll find it," sneered Snape.

Draco spied the tip of his wand showing from his waistband and cursed him silently. "_Mongrel_…"

"Is that all you can say for your last words, Draco?" crooned the professor. "Fine then, _prepare to die_…"

He raised his wand and pointed it at Draco.

Draco closed his eyes, waiting for the excruciating pain to come…

He remembered all his treasured moments in life: his first entry at Hogwarts, his meeting with Harry Potter, Dumbledore, a beautiful girl in a periwinkle blue dress at the night of a Christmas Ball, a lifetime of punishments, graveyards…the face of his mother, the face of his teacher, the face of a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl who believed so much in him and who was now lying on the ground, as cold as ice…

He heard a cry that was not his.

Draco opened his eyes to see Fawks mauling over Snape.

His heart leaped. Joy erupted within his lungs. Seizing the moment, Draco grabbed Hermione's wand and said, "_Accio_ stone!"

The stone flew into his hands and he pocketed it.

He caught both his and Snape's wand in the same way and laying it down on the grass, he ran towards the large bird and the struggling man underneath it.

"Help-! Help me, Draco!" Snape choked, as the bird's claws ripped through his chest. "Help me-!"

Draco smirked. "I've been waiting for this moment _all _my life! Move aside, Fawks!"

He stepped up beside the bird, and raised his wand at the bleeding, injured form.

"Draco, NO!" cried Snape, holding out his hands. "Please, I'm-"

"You're mine, Serverus! _Avada Kedavra_!"

When the horrid green light disappeared, Draco knelt down beside the unmoving body of his potion master and pulled up his sleeve, just in time to see the dark mark disappear from his skin.

_Yes, death was the only way to escape from continuing as a deatheater…_

With disgust, he rolled the sleeves back down over his arm and looked down at Snape's colourless face.

"You were a great teacher, Serverus…"

He touched the cold, hard skin and got back up on his knees.

Fawks made a sound, indicating the need for a pat, but before Draco could acknowledge him, a frightening realization reached his mind.

_Hermione was dead…_

"_No_! It _can't_ be-!"

He rushed over to her unmoving form and knelt down beside her. He took her hand in his and felt for a pulse again, but even this time, he could not feel a thing.

He reached for her shirt and pressed his ear down over her heart, only to be hearing absolutely nothing.

_Well, what were you expecting? Breathing? A heartbeat? You heard the words!_

He held her hands within his, as if imparting heat would bring her back to life.

"No, please, Hermione! Don't tell me-"

Her lifeless form in that soiled cream robe lying against the crisp green grass brought a sudden dull to his system. He couldn't believe that this girl, this beautiful, loving girl could die on him like this!

Shoulders shaking, he bowed down and closed his eyes. _You're gone, Hermione…you're gone now…_

For a few minutes, he observed silence. A peaceful, restful silence that seemed to last an eternity…

Around him, the world changed: the enchanted river rose and flooded its banks, the foaming waves lashed furiously against the boulders and trees, an invisible force touched every tree and every flower, producing a golden glow over every petal and every leaf….

The waves washed across the banks, over Hermione's body, lathering her hair and robes with sweet-smelling anointed water…

The two silver dolphins disappeared into the water and came up again as star-studded constellations in the shape of two fairies.

The two mystical beings of the enchanted river glided over to Hermione and touched her head with their starry hands.

Her whole body glowed as they moved their hands over her entire length.

Then, they floated up into the air and moved towards the river where they disappeared into the lashing waves.

The water receded and flowed back into the river, the trees shivered and shed their leaves…

Draco opened his eyes when he heard breathing.

Hermione had opened her eyes.

"Hermione!"

A smile broke over Draco's face and he helped her sit up. "I'm so glad-!"

She lifted up her hand and placed it over his lips. "Someone's singing," she said.

Her voice was so weak, it sounded like a whisper of the wind.

Draco looked into her eyes, but she was looking elsewhere, into the forest.

"Someone's singing, Draco. I can hear them…," she said, her eyes scanning the forest, then, the river.

Draco brought back her gaze onto him, "no one's singing…"

Hermione titled her head and breathed a sigh. She could hear the fairies singing…she knew they were there somewhere in this forest welcoming her back. The mythical beings who gave her back her life…they were singing for her.

Of course, Draco could not hear it.

Sighing again, she moved her hands from his lips and placed it on his shoulder.

She spotted Snape's body lying on the grass, as cold and stiff as ice.

Draco's gaze followed hers. "He's dead. It's alright."

Fawks uttered a chuckle, bringing both their attention to him. He moved his head about wildly and then looked into the sky.

"I think he wants us to go home," said Draco, smirking.

"_Home_?" asked Hermione, titling her head.

She watched Draco get up and took his hand. He pulled her up and brought her close.

"Yes, home," he said.

The top arch of the sun had broken out over the land. The pinkish shade of the sky merged with orange and as the phoenix took flight, the sun came up completely, basking the whole forest with golden glory.

Hermione watched the river grow smaller and smaller, now orange in colour with sunlight.

The bird took off into the lowest layer of cloud, from over which Draco and Hermione saw the sun as a giant orb of fire and the sky around it blazing. They witnessed the most beautiful sunrise ever, flying through the clouds, over an enchanted forest and across The Great Ocean….

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**A/N: there really is a 'magical' element in this chapter which I created – the whole river and the revival and stuff. yeah. hope it din sound too corny! I just wanted to infuse a bit of new magic into the story, to kinda make it a lil' more Harry-potterish, though I dunno what impression it'll create. Do tell me if it sounds too corny.**

**I really wanted Snape to die off. He's such an evil guy. You'd think he's just spying for Dumbledore and is actually a gud fella, but then he ends up KILLING Dumbledore! Sheesh! It broke my heart really, the 6th book. So I wanted to kinda make-up for all that, though this is not post-HBP. **

**Well, hope you guys are having a gud time reading this, as I did writing it. the updates will be more frequent, I promise – in about another 3 weeks, i.e, since I've got 3 months of hols + net connection in my house….**

**new ideas are kinda not clicking in at the moment coz I've bin drowned in my studies, but I swear, some new stuff are going to come out once I finish the last few updates on this fic(3 more chapters only!!) – probably more adventure…planning to do something wt pirates and a NEWT exam. **

**Anyways, see yah! Don't forget to review!**

**-ELX**


	7. Return Of The King

**A/N:**** ok, me bin on a VERY long break, I know. Blame it on my PC. It rarely works. anyways, **_**on with the story**_

**Warning: emotional moments.**

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"_Home?" asked Hermione, titling her head._

_She watched Draco get up and took his hand. He pulled her up and brought her close._

"_Yes, home," he said._

_The top arch of the sun had broken out over the land. The pinkish shade of the sky merged with orange and as the phoenix took flight, the sun came up completely, basking the whole forest with golden glory._

_Hermione watched the river grow smaller and smaller, now orange in colour with sunlight._

_The bird took off into the lowest layer of cloud, from over which Draco and Hermione saw the sun as a giant orb of fire and the sky around it blazing. They witnessed the most beautiful sunrise ever, flying through the clouds, over an enchanted forest and across The Great Ocean…_

Chapter-7: Return Of The King

Fawks glided low among the clouds, allowing them to soak in the scenery as it passed over the hundreds of forests and plateau-like regions off the coast of the Great Ocean. It took a dive down when it reached the ocean water and skimmed its surface with its creature claws, then, soared back up into the sky.

Hermione passed over the land of the river for one last time before the phoenix left for their homeland. She smiled, for the river had disappeared, shifted its place. The forested land filled with tops of giant trees and rocks was all she saw in place the foaming, swirling water body.

She tore her eyes away from the forest and looked straight ahead at the blazing sun.

"Where exactly are we?" she asked Draco, who sat in front, holding onto the body of the bird.

"I don't really know," he answered, squinting his eyes due to the direct sunlight.

"But you must have _some_ idea! After all, you are a…a deatheater!" accused Hermione, holding her hand up over her eyebrows to create shadow.

"The forest of Czars is a legendary place. It cannot be located on maps and globe. For all I've heard, it's a place somewhere off Scotland, near the isles, but researches have shown no evidence of such a place."

"What, are you saying its existence is a myth and we're living in some kind of mythical dream right now? – Or mythical _nightmare_, whatever!"

She eyed him curiously. "No, seriously?"

"We may very well be living in myth right now."

"But I don't understand! You've been here at your gatherings and stuff! You must be knowing-"

"I know how to get here and go back. That's it. The Dark Lord never told us anything more about this place, only that it was the safest, most secure hideout ever _imagined _in the history of wizard kind. External penetration was considered impossible as there was no means of reaching the hideout through ordinary wizarding transportation."

"-And that's why I had to visualize the forest to get here."

"Exactly. Not many except the deatheaters have seen the forest. That's why it's so safe. And you – you're the first one outside the realm of dark magic to it. I'm guessing you were led by the dead aurors."

Hermione sighed. "How are we going to get back to the Order?"

The mention of the Order made Draco's heart ache.

What was going on there now?

He didn't want to imagine the scene awaiting them at their return. Blood, gore, flashes of light, screams… all because of him

"Guess we'll just have to rely on the bird," he answered, patting the silky feathers on Fawks' neck. "If we use land, we'll probably be out of time…"

"We already _are_ out of time," corrected Hermione, pressing softly on the meaning. "You established that in the cell."

"Don't remind me," he sighed.

The phoenix took a sudden plunge for the clouds, to the highest strata of sky which was foggy white and empty except for vapours. The air currents on top were strong, pushing them back, but the phoenix cut through like an arrow.

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Hermione and she was trying to get a hold of him before she could slip off.

"You'll be okay, won't you?" she asked softly, leaning in.

He knew what she was implying. He did have a magical connection with Voldemort, binding his life to His. And the minute he'd fall, Draco would fall too…not that they had any hope that things would happen that way.

He chose not to answer her question and focused on the white clouds ahead.

Hermione gripped the cloth of his robe over his shoulders, crumpling it with her fingers. She really didn't know what to think. It was a dead end for him, and they both knew it.

"Maybe you can get down somewhere and run away. In that way, they'll never catch you," she told him, trying to sound hopeful.

"I'm not _afraid_ of dying, Granger," he said sharply. "Lets face it, its going to come anyway and I've got to be ready for it sometime or the other! Just why do you care so much?!" he sounded irritated and angry.

"I don't know, but its _not fair_!" she asserted, emotion choking her voice. "You tell me, you're going to help us fight this war and then, you're going to die if we win or lose? That doesn't make _sense_!!"

"What doesn't make sense, Granger?! Hasn't it sunken into your stupid head that I'm a good-for-nothing, dark side worshipper?"

"But, you're not! You're with Dumbledore. You're with us and-and-"

Hermione wrung her hands, stopping in mid-sentence. Tears stung her eyes and for a very long, unrealistic moment, she thought she was going to cry.

But she didn't, holding on to every bit of sanity she had left.

"There's got to be a way out," she said finally. "Dumbledore, I'm sure he'll come up with something."

Draco breathed in a long, tired sigh, "look, its not important if I die or not, but you've _got to_ bring down the Dark Lord and his followers! If you don't, well, you don't have to think of how the world is going to be like then! Side with Potter, fight with the Weasleys, they'll protect you …"

The bird soared higher and higher into the clouds, where grey fused slowly with the sheer whiteness of the sky. Rain clouds were forming.

Hermione leaned against Draco, resting her head on his shoulder.

Draco, startled by her action, loosened his hold on the bird and turned his head back. He could see the long brown curls flying in the current and at once, started to feel extremely down, as if he'd reached rock bottom at an emotional level.

He remembered all the times he'd insulted her and called her a mudblood. The many times he'd taken relish in thwarting her at school, the fierce enemity he's formed with her friends.

God, how he wanted to erase the past! He wanted to build a new past, if that was possible, where he'd never chosen to be a dark servant and where the sun was always shinning for him, like it was now before him, where he'd learnt to love and get over petty differences…where he could have felt the concern and care of a young, valiant Gryffindor for some more time and in some strange way, befriended her…

**(xxx)**

Harry commanded like a master.

"Up at the forefront, Tonks! _You,_ Dawlish, go to the towers. Do a round-check and then, patrol the third floor! Hagrid, how're you doing there?"

"Might as well say I'm doing me job well," chortled the large form in the armchair by the fire. "Keeping a close eye on the flames! Ain't no pesky death squad gonna get past me that easy!"

Harry didn't have the time to roll his eyes at the half-giants assuredness, having heard a large explosion outside in the street. He moved quickly to the window and peered outside.

The whole street was in ruins: houses burnt, shops raided. A furniture store at the end of the street had erupted into flames.

Enraged, Harry turned to the remaining aurors, "find those deatheaters now and lure them here! Our plan should work perfectly!-go! _Go_!"

Through the corner of his eye, he spotted Ginny slipping out the hall to the entrance fireplace. "Hey!" he called after her, but she'd already disappeared around the door.

Alarmed and frightened about what she was going to do and angry that she was not guarding her post, he ran towards the opposite end of the room and caught up with the girl. He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"And just what do you think _you're doing_?"

"Oh, I'm just going to take a walk outside in the park. Its kinda stuffy in here with all the aurors and the creepy goblin king and all. Wanna come?"

She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm going to the houses, to check on the muggles."

"_Check on_ _the muggles_?" cried Harry, looking at her like she was crazy. "Look, we've already dispatched people for them. We need you here!"

Seeing that Ginny's intentions remained unchanged, Harry softened the tone of his voice and said, "Ginny, you want to fight for them, I understand. You can't stand the families being wrenched apart – _me too_! But we've got to deal with it and stay together to work our plan! Please, this is important to _me_! – _To_ _us_!"

The red haired girl stared back defiantly. She asked him to let go of her arm so that she could continue with her own plan. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

"But what if you get hurt? Death eaters are not toys you know. Its not easy predicting their moves-"

Ginny clicked her tongue and leaned on the fireplace with one arm, scowling. "You still take me for a child, don't you?"

"I just don't want to see you hurt – or injured – or anything else for that matter!"

Harry, she knew was being honest. His big-brother fear of losing her overcame every other feeling in him and he had posted her near the back door with Bill so that she'd have backup in case anything happened. But she wasn't a child anymore, and she didn't need backup! She wanted to fight by herself.

Why couldn't he see that? She was really sick of him treating her like a child!

"Ginny, please," he said with a sigh. "You're Ron's sister, he's going to go barking mad if I let anything happen to you-"

"So, its about Ron then? You're afraid to let me out because he might blast you if something happens to me!"

She folded her hands in front, scowling. What had she expected anyways? It was not like Harry had seen anything else in her other than a small, gullible child – she was a younger sister to him and everyone else.

Shame at even hoping for something more burnt her cheeks and face.

Ginny turned around and grabbed a handful of floo-powder. Whatever happened, nothing was going to change her mind about saving the muggles!

"I'm taking the floo network to the Wingston abode," she told him, stepping up in front of the flames. "See you-"

"Stop!" shouted Harry. He suddenly stepped up beside her, saying, "I'm coming with you. Hold on."

And he dashed towards the other to tell them of their sudden change of plan. He returned a second later.

Ginny smirked, watching him scoop up some floo powder from on top the mantelpiece, vexation written purely on his features.

_You're so predictable, Harry. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist jumping in with me when my life was on the line. After all, you saved me once. You'll do it again…_

"_Wingston abode_!" she shouted, dropping the powder into the burning flames…

**(xxx)**

When they fell out of the fireplace, dirty with ashes and half burnt charcoal sticks, the first thing they heard was a shrill scream of a woman. Harry got up quickly and after helping Ginny get to her feet, ran for the door behind which he'd heard the scream.

Before he placed his hands on the knob, Ginny caught his arm. "Be careful," she whispered.

Harry nodded with a half smile. Patting her hand, he reached for the doorknob and turned it.

Through the small space in between the door and its frame, he could see two frozen bodies. One of a grey haired man in glasses and the other of a large, portly faced woman. They were lying still with their unmoving hands held up in defence before them.

"They're both dead," he told Ginny in as hushed voice. He asked her to come closer to the door and listen to the two men conversing inside.

"Muggle _scum_, its better they're dead. They can't possibly do the Dark Lord's bidding for long…" one of them was saying.

"Keep your voice _down_, Coloso!" ordered the other man, "we mustn't wake up the child in the bed room. Come on."

"They're going to murder a child! Harry, we must stop them!" Ginny said frantically.

"I know."

Harry turned back and sealed the fireplace. He then waited for the room to empty.

Once the two deatheaters were gone, Harry and Ginny slipped into the room quietly.

Ginny immediately rushed to the woman and checked her pulse.

"Gone," she sighed and followed Harry out the door into a hallway. The men had gone down the carpeted stairway and were heading for a side way opening in the wall.

Once they disappeared through it, both of them crept downstairs and listened to their conversation.

"There's a safe down there! Under the toy box!"

"Leave it, Coloso."

"Its not guarded by any spells, we can break it and take all the money and jewellery! It'll be worth a fortune!"

"Its not worth anything! Don't you remember the Dark Lord saying that money is useless! Only fools go after it! Wise men go after power. Where's the baby? Ah…there it is…"

Ginny's heart began to beat out of her chest, or so she felt. She clenched the wand in her hand tightly, cursing them silently.

_They're going to murder a baby? A new born who hasn't even had the chance to do anything to them? What kind of monsters were they?!_

"Would you look at its piggish face? Isn't it adorable….? Too bad, it was born to die…"

Ginny suddenly shot out from behind Harry to the wall opening. Inside the bright coloured, curtained playroom, leaning over a wooden cradle was a black hooded figure with his back towards her. The other was kneeling on a rug, furiously tampering with the seal of a rectangular safe.

"That child is going to live a long life, mister," she declared.

The two men turned sharply to face her, but before they could strike, Ginny had already said the words and the man next to the cradle fell numb onto the floor.

Coloso stood up, wand pointed at her. "You pathetic _road rat_! _Avada-_"

A jet of green light flashed across the room from behind Ginny and soon, Coloso joined his partner on the floor, the wand dropping from his pale, whitish hands.

It was Harry.

"Thanks," she said, pocketing her wand and smiling.

"No problem."

He passed by her, across the room to the cradle and peered inside. "He's awake…"

Ginny rushed over to the baby, stepping over the two dead bodies, and looked into the cradle.

There, wrapped in a plain white sheet, was a pink-faced baby. Its arms were bent over the cloth, striking the air incessantly with curled fists. It was smiling – and drooling. Bubbles formed at the corner of his lips.

_Gosh, it appeared so happy…even when its parents were lying dead upstairs…_

Ginny sighed and touched Harry's shoulder, knowing he was thinking the same thing.

"Come on, let's go," she said, patting him.

"I can't ever think I was like this when my parents died," he said, sounding far away.

Ginny looked up at him, surprised to see that his eyes were rather watery.

He was reliving that moment many years back…he was reliving the moment his parents died and he was faced with Voldemort for the first time.

"You were only a baby," she said, "you didn't know."

"How could I not know that the darkest wizard of all time was staring me straight in the eye after killing my mom and dad?" he asked, raising his voice a little. "I was probably gurgling over some toy bear when I heard them screaming…."

"I understand, Harry. Its difficult…but it's the past, remember? Its over and you've got to continue your battle _against_ the one who murdered your parents."

Ginny shrugged, biting her lips. "He's still after you and he's not to going to rest until you join your parents in their graves."

"Yeah…I shouldn't let that happen, right?"

He sighed.

The baby stuck its thumb into its mouth and began chewing on it, watching them with its small, black eyes. It kicked the blanket off, wobbling away with excitement at meeting the two strangers.

Ginny readjusted the blanket and stepped back.

"We've got to go," she told him, casting a shield charm on the cradle. Slipping a hand into his, she pulled him with her. "Come on."

**(xxx)**

Dawn looked like the middle of the night. The sun had not risen and the sky was dark grey, readying to bring on a storm. The stars had disappeared among the clouds and a pale moon glided slowly towards the west.

Through the windows, Ginny could see the mass destruction of houses and quarters. Smoke arose from the top of many a burnt stack of bricks. Flames fed on the wooden remains of posts and fences, spreading quickly to nearby areas.

People rushed out of their houses, screaming after having seen magic being displayed. The instant they stepped out their front door, jets of light from nearby shadows would take them down.

Most of the muggles were in their nightshirts, frightened to no hell that they'd seen a ghost when they'd actually seen a deatheater. Some had come out due to curiosity. One particular bald, stout muggle stepped into the balcony with a handgun, searching for the source of violence. But the wand was quicker than the gun, and he fell dead from the railing the next second….

The aurors were fighting a losing battle it appeared. The activities of the deatheaters varied from place-to-place, some attacks were large scale, some were limited to a few stores in a line. Due to the disturbances from the muggles on the street, it became difficult to hunt.

Kingshley had taken down two suspicious characters hovering around a playground, but the Inner Circle members were still at large. Lucius, Travers, McNair, Bellatrix and the others were conducting their activities in secrecy around the site of the Order. Aware of its existence between no.11 and no.13, they worked in secret to get past the muggles and the spying aurors until they were close enough to perform their attack.

A few rows of houses away, Ginny screamed as the newly materialized Order headquarters suffered an explosion at the back, sending wood and splinters many meters into the air.

The scream from the empty, raided house caught the attention of Fenrir Greyback, who lifted up his wolverine face to the darkened window. His yellow eyes narrowed to slits when he spotted the patch of red hair quickly disappearing behind the frame.

He bared his sharp teeth at the muggles outside, forcing them to make way, then, took a gigantic leap towards the front porch of the Wingston house.

By the time he crashed through the door and landed firmly on his paws, the girl had apparated and the house was enveloped in blank darkness.

The werewolf sniffed around and found there to be still some humanly inhabitation. He howled through the boards so that the others could be alerted. Soon, he was joined by two others of his pack. Together, they began hunting for the girl…

"The flesh of human child does not deserve to live, remember," he rasped to the two other werewolves. "You see her, bite her neck and make sure she's dead."

They nodded and bounded up the stairs.

He took the sideway opening and found himself to be in a brightly coloured room, filled with replicates of bears and tigers. Hungrily, he ripped through them with his teeth and nails, taking out the cotton and smelling it.

His eyes then turned towards the cradle.

Human meat lay inside, sucking itself with joy.

The wolf threw himself at it, but hit the invisible dome around it.

He slid to the ground and growled angrily, admitting defeat.

The shield charm was too powerful for him and he had no magic of his own other than his physical strength.

The baby gurgled inside, kicking restlessly. It rolled to its side and lay on its stomach, looking the werewolf in the eye.

But it didn't fear, it didn't even understand.

It gurgled and laughed, drool coming out of its mouth and wetting the cradle bed…

**(xxx)**

Arthur had Travers cornered this time. The passageway was behind him, and Arthur wasn't intent on letting him slip by.

"Even if I lose my life at this point, Arthur, I know that it'll be for my master and not for myself," said the deatheater, crouching into a corner with his wand held loosely in a shaking hand. "I'll be given a share of eternal life with the glory of my master, and you wait and watch! You'll all be treated like slaves once he comes back into power!"

"I would rather _die_ than be a slave to your master," said Arthur, his lips quivering. He took a step in front, holding out his wand and pointing it straight at him.

"What if you shared his eternal life and was bound by all time to do his bidding?" asked Travers, a mad gleam in his eyes. "Then, what would you do, Arthur? _What would you do_?"

"Shut up I say!" shouted Arthur, trying to keep his cool. "SHUT UP!-"

He suddenly went still and dropped his wand. Trembling, he reached for his head and felt the blood oozing out from the back of his skull.

"No…" he said, fell motionless to the floor.

Behind him stood a large womanly figure, holding a board hammered with iron nails. Bellatrix stepped over the fallen body, carefully lifting up her robe. Once on the other side, she turned his head with her shoe.

"He's dead, is he?" she asked Travers.

The deatheater, still shaking from the auror's confrontation, stood up unsteadily. He looked at Bellatrix and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Must be," said the woman carelessly.

She pushed his head once more and turned to Travers. "I can feel the Lord coming…. can you?"

"Yes, I can," replied the man, rubbing on his arm. "Wait, he's here…"

**(xxx)**

A sudden stillness descended upon the entire town. The wind died. The destruction ceased.

A random creak from a broken post or unhooked door echoed through the streets.

The clouds had gathered overhead, swirling into a dark mix. Thunder sounded from above the formation, lighting up the layers of sky for a brief second.

A tyrannical force ripped through the clouds and shot for the ground.

No one could catch what it was. Its appearance and descend was so quick, so frightening, even the aurors held their breaths.

The force dived for the bottom ground of a large abandoned playground, made a U-bend and started ascending to the sky again.

Flashes of blue light erupted from seven different spots in the town.

Seven distinguished members of the Inner Circle convened their powers for the materialization of their Lord.

The blue jets grew thicker and stronger, congregating at the point of sky where the force was, shrouding itself in black mist. It absorbed more and more power, drank the life out of the seven wands and grew into its humanly form.

Through the mist, a hand could be seen forming, then an arm, a bluish chest…

Lord Voldemort descended down to the ground with the support of the blue jets of light, in full human form, in a black misty robe that disappeared into the surroundings. He hovered above the ground for a moment, head bowed, hands outstretched, then, he spoke in a language unknown to wizard kind.

A ring of blue fire appeared around him. It circled around, then multiplied above one another. Soon, his entire body was shielded with the glowing blue fire.

He shouted a command and the rings of fire joined into one single beam circling around his body.

"I don't understand…" said Tonks to a nearby auror who stood alert with his wand. "What's he doing?"

In a split second, the beam divided. It expanded a thousand miles in diameter, passing through the houses and the people and disappeared around the end of the town.

It then, reappeared and moved back to its central location.

Every house through which it passed exploded into thin air. Wooden boards and splinters were thrown up into the sky and the remaining muggles lost their lives.

The beam was a silent killer…

It passed through the houses, one by one, killing its inmates and destroying it completely.

"No!" said Tonks, "no, we have to do something about this!!"

She turned around the tree she was hiding and sneaked up to the nearest spot of jet light.

_Voldemort is surviving on the power of his deatheaters. I must at least knock one unconscious…_

The circle of fire was soon nearing the Order headquarters, destroying everything in sight. Tonks ran to the point from where she estimated the flow of power was coming and hid behind some bushes.

Through the leaves, she saw Bellatrix pointing her wand in the direction of Voldemort, blue light erupting from its end.

"_finite incantem_," she whispered, but the beam continued to flow.

She tapped her wand furiously and repeated the spell, but it didn't work.

She turned back and could see the ring's light being reflected in the dark grey clouds. It was reaching the Order real fast.

_Come on, Tonks, think!_

_Think!_

Suddenly, she was struck by an idea!

She pointed her wand at the tip of Bellatrix robe and whispered, "_incendio_."

A spark of fire appeared at the end of the cloth.

This distracted Bellatrix and she tried to stamp it out, loosing control of her wand. The jets of light began to flow discontinuously.

The fire caught on to the material quickly and she withdrew her wand, thus breaking the flow of power.

One of the seven beams of light reaching Voldemort disappeared and the ring of fire collapsed to the ground.

Tonks breathed a sigh of relief, wiping sweat off her forehead: she'd saved the Order.

Voldemort raised his head. "what happened to the seventh one?" he asked, looking around. "What happened, I say!!"

"Well, if you must know, one of your Inner Circle members got attacked by my trusted aurors and she's too busy fighting her off to remember that you need her at the moment," said a cool, husky voice. It was Dumbledore.

He smiled from a nearby bench.

"Albus…" Voldemort acknowledged him with scorn. "What a _pleasant_ surprise-"

He held out his wand and wiped it through the air. "You were warned, I presume of my attack?"

"No," answered the headmaster, getting up and walking towards him.

"But you were prepared."

"You can say that."

"So how did you know?" growled Voldemort.

"I used my common sense," replied Dumbledore simply.

Voldemort's face darkened. "Where is the stone…?"

"I have no idea."

"_Do not_ lie to the Dark Lord, you fool!" a voice shouted from a nearby raided house.

Dumbledore smiled and looked towards the top window, where he spotted movement. He raised his wand and blasted the wall next to the window. Out fell a deatheater, screaming and kicking until he reached the cemented ground below.

_Crack._

"hhhmmmm…he is badly trained," noted Dumbledore. "Now, where were we-? Ah!"

He looked towards Voldemort. "Shall we begin?"

Voldemort raised his head proudly. "Of course…"

**(xxx)**

Locked in an endless duel, the two powers were challenging each other. Light from their wands reached up to the clouds and could be seen against the sky from many miles away.

The phoenix returning from its journey emitted a low cry seeing the odd spectacle of light.

Hermione pointed. "Oh-no!" she gasped.

Draco looked straight ahead to where the bird was descending and gulped…

The town was in ruins. Houses crumpled into their basements, the roads were strewn with logs of wood, damaged furniture and…bloodied bodies.

Hermione cringed behind him after seeing the scene. "All those people, they're…"

"Dead…" he finished, feeling his heart beat faster and faster. "He used the Ring of Fire…"

In the middle of the town where four streets met at a large cul-de-sac, the battle raged.

He saw werewolves tearing through the roads, hunting on young human flesh. They bound into houses through windows and came out drooling. Apparently, all the people were already dead in there… as they soared low above the rooftops, one of them looked up. Its bright red, bloodshot eyes narrowed into slits as it spotted the phoenix. It took in a deep breath, scrunched in its chest and emitted a long, dog-like howl.

"Oh, no! They're _coming after_ us!" Hermione cried, pointing at the creatures raising their heads towards the sky and following the movement of the bird. "We're attracting too much attention!"

Draco steered the phoenix away from the cul-de-sac. He had to find some place the werewolves couldn't reach…like a water body or something. Or the top of a standing building or something. But where could he find one? Everything in town was destroyed.

He circled the town, looking for a secure place for landing, but there was not a single place free of fights or duels and werewolves teamed under their shadow wherever they went.

**(xxx)**

The glinting gold of the bird's feathers against the dark grey sky caught the eye of Lucius and Harry, both who were on fighting in different areas of the same town.

Harry knocked unconscious the deatheater in his arms and looked towards the sky, smiling in relief.

_Hermione! She was back!_

He put his hands around his mouth in an O-shape and called out, "HERMIONE!!"

Hermione looked down from the bird. Spotting Harry, she waved frantically to him.

"_Look_, there's Harry!" she told Draco in a happy whisper. "He's alright-!"

Draco's lips curled, hearing the bouncing joy in her voice.

He steered the bird away from him and dove behind a large, three floored, half-wrecked house.

"She's okay…" Harry told himself.

The joy and relief at finding his friend safe, even if it was in the arms of an enemy, overcame him completely.

"Ginny!" he called out to the red haired girl fighting a little away, "Its Hermione, she's okay!-"

But this call, on his part was the biggest mistake ever, because the minute Ginny turned towards him, the deatheater she was dueling with struck her in the chest with a powerful spell. She was blasted back and he heard her screaming before she fell onto the ground, unconscious.

Harry's senses literally went numb watching her collapse.

His heart seemed to stop beating and every passing split second appeared unreal.

"No. Ginny…"

Sound refused to come out of his throat and he was left mouthing like a fish, staring down at her unconscious body.

An odd kind of buzzing sounded inside his brain.

"_You_…" he looked towards the deatheater. "You – _what've you done to her_?!!"

The man in the hood laughed, laughed so loud, so boisterously, that he failed to see the spell coming his way…

The clouds roared with thunder. Rain started to pour.

Harry stepped over the man's body on the wet ground and leaned down next to Ginny.

He took her head in his lap and wiped the blood from the tiny scars on her face. "Ginny, please, talk to me," he urged, shaking her. "Please, talk…"

The rainwater fell over her face, washing on the wounds and wetting her hair. She looked pale and so weak.

"Please. Please, say something."

Harry shook her harder, tears forming in his eyes. "Please, Ginny. Ginny!"

He hugged her in his arms, soaking up the rain. Tears began to fall freely across his cheek as he planted he kiss on the top of her hair.

No, he wasn't about to lose her, he tried to assure himself.

She was strong, she was a fighter. She wouldn't give up her life so easily…

"Please…please…don't go…"

Like a miracle, he heard a weak cough.

**(xxx)**

Hermione put an umbrella charm over both of them and the whole bird to keep the water off them. She cast a special visibility charm on herself and Draco to allow them to see through the rain.

They had been flying for five whole minutes now, circling the town. The wolves kept on following them wherever they went and they couldn't land unless they could find high ground.

"Hey look!" Hermione pointed suddenly towards a cluster of burnt trees, where a few goblins were battling with werewolves. Her heart leaped at the possibility –

She spotted the goblin tribe marching its way into the town at the very end of the road.

The goblins were small, ugly and boisterous, but extremely powerful. Each and every goblin in the fleet carried a weapon and they seemed to want a go with the wolves. She called out to them, asking them to follow her.

"What're you doing?" asked Draco from the front. "You'll only draw more attention to yourself!"

"Turn the bird around, Draco. I'm going to lead the goblins to the werewolves!"

"And what do you think will happen then? The goblins have not taken sides."

"Neither have the werewolves, but they're mortal enemies…."

Draco smirked, seeing the situation in new light.

"Smart girl," he said and turned the bird around.

Sure enough, the plan worked! The goblins and werewolves fought among themselves and Draco and Hermione were free to land on the ground.

But all was not well on the ground.

Lucius was waiting for his son to get down from the bird. He stood composedly by a broken post, watching him help the girl down and spoke only after the bird had returned to the sky.

"Well done, Draco! You've managed to slip past the Dark Lord once again!"

Draco turned to him, an expression of pure loathing written across his face. "Yes I have, Father. And I'm sure He admires me for the clever use of occlumency taught by our dear old Serverus. None have been lucky enough so as to have passed every question of the Dark Lord deceptively, not even you, Father. You should be proud of me for having come this far…"

Lucius' lips twisted in a crooked smirk. "I should be proud of you? I don't think so…you're an embarrassment to me, you know that?"

He looked at Hermione and took her in with keen interest. "You said you had taken her to get answers, once in a while, that is. I'm not sure you remember."

"Of course, I remember. But I wasn't sure if you'd bought the story…"

"Well, I had and it was simply the biggest mistake I ever made! I shouldn't have let you go there!"

he walked coolly towards them, circled Hermione, and looked towards Draco. "She got you out?" he asked him coldly.

"Yes," he answered, shaking off the funny feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"Why?"

"Because-"

"Because he had saved my life-!" stared Hermione.

"_Do not speak unless you are being spoke to, stupid girl_!!" snarled the man, smacking her across the face.

Hermione gasped and touched her cheek. "Why, you monster-!" she was about to say, but then, caught sight of Draco's wand being pointed at Lucius' chest.

"Back off," he said sharply. "That's enough. She may have got me out because of whatever reason, but you, you're a father, and you're only son was about to be sentenced to the dementors and you didn't even come to say goodbye."

"Even if I came, would you have wanted to see me?"

Lucius raised his eyebrows at him. "You wouldn't want your last memories to be about someone who taught you how to kill, would you?"

He looked down at the girl once more. "You did this to him. You made him _want_ to betray his real master," he told her.

"I told you that was _enough_!" said Draco with more force, tapping the wand on his chest. "Now, back off!"

Lucius smirked and took a step back, holding up his hands. "Now, Draco, you wouldn't be wanting to do that to your father, would you?" he looked at the wand and back at him. "You've always been my best buddy…"

"Shut up. I was never your best buddy. All you cared about was your wealth and blood. You never gave a damn about any friend of yours!"

"Now, you're starting to hurt me. Remember all the presents I used to send for Christmas? The pretty jewellery case and all?"

Draco's hand began to waver. "I know what you're trying to do to me, Lucius! But its not going to work this time!"

"Oh really? But it is working…you're putting your wand down…"

Lucius laughed menacingly.

"Draco, don't put it down!" urged Hermione, from beside him. She could see through the man's intention better than him. He was trying to sweet-talk him, then, get him defenceless so that he could kill him. She couldn't imagine anyone being so cold-hearted so as to kill one's own son. Carefully, she pulled out her own wand and hid it behind her.

Draco had brought his hand down, unable to curse him. There was distinct contempt and loathing written on his face.

"Draco! _No_! You _must_ defend yourself!" Hermione was saying.

Suddenly, Lucius stopped laughing and brought out his own wand. There was a twisted expression on his face when he looked Draco in the eye. "I'm sorry, son-"

He was about to say the curse when he suddenly went numb. A jet of green light flashed around him from the back and he fell motionless into a wet puddle on the road.

Draco closed his eyes, clenching his fists.

_Father, you're gone too…_

He breathed a deep sigh and opened his eyes.

Standing before him was Harry Potter.

"Thank you," he said, trembling slightly.

Harry nodded and moved aside so that he could pass and look at the body of his father. He watched him crouch down beside the deatheater in the rain and take his hands in his.

_He was so cold, even in death,_ thought Draco, feeling his hand. He rested it over his abdomen and sat by him silently.

_You'll join mother. I know where she is. And you two will be happy again…_

He looked into the dead, unmoving eyes of his father. The malicious glint in them had disappeared. It struck him only now that they had the exact same pair of eyes, except that he had seen beauty while his father had seen only wealth.

Sighing, he touched the face at the temples and closed them forever.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N:**** eventful chapter ain't it? Eventful and exciting… ok, now I put this chapter up in a bit of a hurry, so there'll be plenty of mistakes(esp spl & grammar mistakes) to go around. Point them out and I'll gladly correct them **

**Next time: someone we love breathes his last breath….**


	8. The Dreaded Dawn

**Warning: character death**

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_He looked into the dead, unmoving eyes of his father. The malicious glint in them had disappeared. It struck him only now that they had the exact same pair of eyes, except that he had seen beauty while his father had seen only wealth._

_Sighing, he touched the face at the temples and closed them forever._

Chapter-8:The Dreaded Dawn

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder pat him.

"I'm sorry," Harry confessed. "I really am."

"Don't be," said Draco getting up from the road. He watched the rain drops splattering on Lucius's face, and looked up to the sky. "Come on, the rain's just going to get worse. We've got to destroy the _stone_-"

He put his hands into his pockets and felt its cold, hard surface. The Stone of Eternal Life, it was still safe in his pockets…it had to be destroyed before Voldemort could find it. But _how_?

Hermione, pondering over the same, came up with a little something to ease the situation: "Its destruction was never told of anywhere in books or manuscripts," she said with a thoughtful air, "all that was known of its powers was that it held the gift of eternal life and the one in possession of it had ultimate control over the universe."

"And that shouldn't be the Dark Lord," interrupted Draco.

"_Exactly_!" said Hermione, snapping her fingers.  
Harry looked at her curiously for a second. "What do you mean 'exactly'?" he asked her.  
"It _can't_ be Voldemort, Harry! Lord Voldemort cannot possess the stone," said Hermione, "Because the stone of eternal life is a source of positive energy. We found it in the river of pure goodness, meaning it is pure and has a good purpose. Voldemort trying to posses the stone would not work or would have a counter effect as he's evil and the stone cannot be possessed by evil."

She looked at both their faces.

Drawing in the blank expression on their faces, she continued, "Think about it, a dark wizard trying to possess the stone of light, an evil sorcerer trying to possess an object of purity. It's like love and hate trying to coexist. Or peace and war abiding in the same house. Don't you see? They're _opposites_. One will destroy the other!"

"That's your theory?" asked Draco, giving her a strange look.

"Yeah, well, I've been thinking about it…–see, the stone is a part of nature, and in nature, good destroys bad! That's how it goes! So if Voldemort tries to claim his power over the stone, it may destroy him instead."

"But what if he _could _possess it, Hermione?" asked Harry tensely. "What if it doesn't work the way you said it would?"

"And why would the Dark Lord try so hard to find it, if it would end up destroying him?" commented Draco.

"Oh, I don't know…ancient magic isn't the most predictable thing in the world, but what else have we got?"

Hermione sighed and gave a halfhearted shrug.

She looked over her shoulders at the sky above the housetops. The rain had stopped and the clouds had thickened into a dark, black mass, swirling like liquid. Flashes of green light appeared around it, indicating the gaining power of Lord Voldemort.

Her heart dropped to an all-time low, knowing that they hadn't an answer to the question so as to how to destroy the stone. All they'd come up with were _theories _of nature, which most probably were too old and unrevised to be applied in this case.

But then, she remembered the time near the river, where she could have sworn the water fairies had brought her back to life.

There, the goodness of the river warded off even _death_! It forced her to believe that nature did have same sort of unexplainable magic within it that may elude humans.

The ancient magic that remained in the river restored her sight and consciousness.

In her heart at that moment, arose a flood of faith, blinding her to the war and everything else in the world.

Good destroyed evil._ That was it! _

The three got ready to aparate to the spot of the war, Draco trying his best to enjoy each and every breath he took, for he didn't know which was his last.

The same thing played on Hermione's mind and before she aparated, she took his hand and said, "You'll be okay, Draco."

There was a lot of vagueness clouding her voice, he couldn't really figure out why she was saying it. She knew he was a goner, then why these little lines about being okay? he'd told her everything, about the bond he shared with Voldemort and the fate of all deatheaters.

So she knew his definite end. Why was she trying to reassure him?

Because she _cared_?

Her words filled his ears, sounding unreal and otherworldly.

He gave her his trademark smirk, assuring her that all was well with him.

But on the inside, he was frozen.

Hermione returned a smile and turned to Harry, who nodded. She let go of Draco's hand, and aparated.

Harry followed suit and soon, the street was empty except for him.

Draco scanned the long, empty road, strewn with logs of wood and broken parts of furniture. Wind whistled through, sending dead twigs and leaves flying into the air. Papers flittered over the pavement, and the street lamps creaked.

The place seemed eerily quiet though…

Draco, feeling a little creeped out, took one last look at his father and prepared to visualize the cul-de-sac.

From behind a birch bark, two eyes watched him. Red and blood-shot, narrowed to slits. Its jaws were hanging open, displaying two layers of sculptured, white teeth, sharp enough to cut through bone. Globs of saliva drooled through and collected on the ground next to two long, clawed feet….

The werewolf emitted a low growl, sharpening its teeth as it did so.

**(xxx)**

Hermione tried to ward off two adamant deatheaters, yelling hexes and throwing jinxes at them with her skilled wand. Howsoever, they managed to escape every hex and every curse she sent their way and were quite intent on fighting her down, expecting surrender.

"Why you insolent, incompetent, gnarly _little_ fool-!" she shouted at them as one of them uncovered her nickname at school: _buck toothed beaver girlfriend_.

She tried to see who the men under the hood were. One was shorter than the other and had stubby fingers. A little on the podgy side too. He _had definitely_ studied with her at school, that's why he could so clearly remember the mortifying nickname that had been chosen for her – she remembered it'd been chosen by Draco's cronies and every time she used to pass them, one of the half-dead croons would shout it out.

Old times made her heart ache. It was like a vivid reminder of what she was fighting for.

In the minute that followed, they had sent her multiple hexes, and unable to ward all of them off, Hermione was hit straight in the chest with a spell and was pushed back with the energy.

Quickly, without wasting any time, she caught her breath and continued fighting.

"You're Crabbe aren't you?" she asked the one who hit her, but he didn't respond.

"What? Are you afraid to reveal yourself even when your master is at top power?" she sneered. "You're a coward then."

This angered the other deatheater and he sent a flash of red light her way, which hit her arm. The patch of skin there began to smear and burn. The face of a snake was slowly forming on her right arm.

The death eaters hissed another spell and she fell on permanent bind.

Hermione gasped as she hit the cold, hard ground. The bind had caught her strong this time and as she tried to wiggle on the ground, it grew tighter, suffocating her and further pressing against her burn mark.

The two deatheaters came forth before her. She could hear one grunt.

_Oh, that is so definitely Crabbe…_she thought sardonically, trying to kick herself up. She put her entire strength into her feet and tried to push it up, but the bind was too strong, disabling any sort of movement.

_Was this how it was to end?_ She asked herself a million times, looking around for help.

Was this how she was going to die? She didn't think so…

She could see the fight between Dumbledore and Voldemort take place at the centre of the cul-de-sac. Dumbledore was growing tired, though still fighting. Lord Voldemort looked inhuman, his whole blue body glowing uncannily. His wand movements were like that of a gliding feather, effortless and free, unchallenged….

A time came when Dumbledore received a forcible blow on his left arm, disabling it from further movement. It swung at his side, as if it were a piece of rubber attached to his shoulder.

She returned her gaze to the deatheaters, and startled, as one of them had bent down close to her.

The man brought one hand to her jaw and held it lightly. The dark blue eyes sparkled like jewels underneath the hoods.

Hermione turned her face away, breathing hard as the fingers trailed her jaw and disappeared into her hairline. He pushed back a few dark brown curls at the side and whispered, "What a pity you'll be dying so young…"

The other deatheater smirked down at her, relishing the frustration written over her face.

Suddenly, there was movement in the bushes at her side.

Something was coming. Raspy panting reached her ears.

Hermione emitted a startled cry as a large black form jumped up from the bushes in the left. She could catch only a glimpse of its wolverine face before it sprang from the bushes over her body to her right. It was holding something in is mouth.

In its spring, its legs knocked back the deatheater leaning over her and in the second she got, she called for Ron who was fighting nearby, to undo the bind.

She looked back at the deatheaters. One was looking in the direction of the werewolf, and the other was slowly getting up from the ground, holding a hand to his head.

"It's got the stone…." hissed one of them, pointing towards the black form bounding towards the centre of the cul-de-sac. "Crabbe, our time has come!"

He looked at Hermione and pointed his wand at her. "You, _girl_, say goodbye…"

Hermione's eyes widened and she called for Ron again, her heart beating painfully in her constrained chest. Thoughts flew through her head; she couldn't remember a single spell! Her wand lay a little away, but her hands stayed glue onto her sides under the force of the bind.

**(xxx)**

The werewolf bounded up to its master, stone in its mouth, sniffing the blood-soaked air. It growled with relish calculating the flesh on the human dead bodies waiting to be eaten…

Lord Voldemort had uttered his final duel curse. He smirked at his tiring opponent who was on the ground, breathing hard.

He looked down at the man, fixing him with his cold, cruel stare.

"Tired already?" he sneered at Dumbledore, who stood up shaking. "That's the problem with you mortals. You depend on unreliable sources for your energy."

"If you think depending on the Stone of Eternal Life will keep you alive to surpass death, you are free to use it and channel its energy," said Dumbledore huskily. "After all, isn't that what your pet dog has brought you?"

"What are you saying?"

Lord Voldemort turned abruptly to his side when the werewolf dove into him. "_Fenrir_!"

The werewolf stepped back and looked into his master's eyes. It made a low, hound-like sound and bared the stone in its mouth.

Voldemort's face changed, darkness overshadowing his features.

"The stone…"

His voice was dry and parched with greed and reverence.

He held out his hands and the animal dropped the stone into them. He then, closed his hands over it and brought it up to his chest in prayer position.

The skies cracked with thunder, the rain ceased to fall. The clouds formed a whirlpool in the sky.

An eerie glow surrounded the Dark Lord who rose a few feet above the ground.

Winds picked up from nowhere and currents that were never passed this side of the country, blew strongly through the empty streets, howling through broken wood and making trees scream in despair. It came from all directions, ignoring every rule of its nature and circled around the unearthly figure.

The Dark Lord raised his hands over his head, still cupping the stone.

"_All the power in the certainty, _

_All the ancient magic I have thus known, _

_I command you to your abandon throne,_

_And join the forces of the dark_…"

The winds blew in faster and faster, whipping through every infrastructural form. It carried with it broken leaves and twigs and even tiny splinters. The sky gave a loud crack and the very centre of the earth seemed to shake.

Every other form of magic died into the uncertain air. Wands dropped to the ground, faces turned.

The two deatheaters turned towards their master, head bowed with reverence. So did every other deatheater stationed around town.

The Dark Lord was demanding them to give up their powers to the ultimate force in his hands.

**(xxx)**

Hermione quickly scrambled out of the bind and got to her feet. Wind whipped through her robes, freezing her legs.

Well aware of the fact that Voldemort had now got the stone and was all set to rise into power, Hermione, holding onto to every fleeting second, moved into the bushes.

She ran through the backyard of a stone house, scanned the road behind it for any signs of familiarity, and then took a left turn to the end of town.

**(xxx)**

"_All the power in the certainty, _

_All the ancient magic I have thus known, _

_I command you to your abandon throne,_

_And join the forces of the dark_…"

Chanted the Dark Lord repeatedly, raising his head to the skies and looking straight upwards.

A field of indestructible energy had formed around him like an electric shield. Lightning struck the earth from above, attracted by the shield.

Dumbledore could see the fear in the eyes of every auror out there. Their inability to taunt and work without magic caused them to stand gaping at the Dark Lord, who was snatching away all magic from the land through the wiping winds.

But there was magic that he couldn't snatch away, Dumbledore knew. There was also a crack in his master plan that perhaps he didn't know how to patch up.

In silence, in bold defiance yet humble humility, Dumbledore waited for the time to come…

And at the dawn of that moment of weakness, he'd command every source of good to break free of its restrains and fight like there was no tomorrow.

**(xxx)**

Hermione found him unconscious against an old, broken fence line. Her thoughts at seeing him with his eyes closed like that slapped hard against her mind and she found herself not breathing until she was able to detect a pulse.

"Draco!" she called him, holding his shoulders and shaking him. "Draco, come on! Wake up!"

His head slanted on the peg, revealing a bloody wound at the back.

_Oh god. He's injured…_

Hermione recollected the image of the black werewolf jumping over her when she was under the bind.

The same werewolf might have attacked Draco after she and Harry had apparated – and it did its job: it got the stone and knocked Draco unconscious.

Hermione knew of spells that would bring one back to conscious, but since magic didn't work at present, she had to resort to muggle methods of waking him.

And the wound – it had to be healed lest he should be left here to bleed and die.

Sighing, Hermione looked at his pale, white face, for a second wishing she could be as peaceful as him, completely unaware that the Dark Lord was gaining power. Also, it struck her that she was looking at someone who wasn't going to be around for very long, who was to rest his mind, body and soul in the lap of a defeated Lord soon.

There wasn't much life in him already. What were the chances that he'd survive the war, let alone a single fight?

Hermione dismissed all such evil thoughts that plagued her and touched Draco's face.

_So cold…as if in death…_

Her heart suddenly ached with emotion. It appeared full and twisting and she felt her face grown hot with a mix of anger and hopelessness.

_Why was fate so unfair? Why did he have to die like this?- _she wanted to ask herself a million times, but no matter how much she pressed on the question, no matter how hard she tried to reason with laws of magic, she couldn't figure out another way for him.

"No," she said, shaking her head. He was not dead. Just unconscious.

She looked around the wreckage - A sprinkler tube lying sprawled across the street caught her attention.

She fumbled with its fittings and turned it on. A thin tail of water seeped out at the end.

She rushed to it and cupped as much of it as she could in her hands and splashed it at Draco's face.

His eyebrows crinkled in response to the cool water.

Glad to see conscious movement, Hermione kneeled down beside him and called his name a few times.

Draco opened his eyes, feeling the back of his head. It was hurting like hell.

"Ow!" he said, touching the wet wound near his ears. He brought his hands to his face and stared at the blood on his fingers.

Hermione lowered his hand in silent acknowledgment of the pain. "I think you got that fighting off the werewolf," she said.

He looked at her for a long piercing second, as if to see if she was real. His mind seemed a little foggy and he could see her form double and triple.

"Hermione, what're you doing here?-"

He closed his eyes and rubbed them, clearing his vision.

"We'll talk later," she cut in impatiently. "The Dark Lord's got the stone and there's nothing we can do about it…"

She showed him the rising form of Lord Voldemort hovering above the housetops, the field of sparky energy hazing around him.

"He's gaining power," she said, her eyes filling up with fear.

"I can feel it," said Draco, touching the wound at the back of his head again.

He got to his feet unsteadily, holding onto the fence for support. Voldemort had now risen right in the line of his eyesight. He could see the tormenting winds circle him and the sparky energy crackle across his body.

The scene looked all too familiar to him, as if he'd somehow always known this was coming. He looked more closely at the screaming trees at the verge of being uprooted and the housetops bring threatened dangerously by the winds, bricks and boards flying off into the air.

Destruction was all around him.

Then, he remembered a narration his father had told him, about the rise of Lord Voldemort: _"the trees uprooted and lifted off the ground, severing many a head and several a bone as it shared the path of the raging wind. Houses melted under the fury of the Dark Lord…"_

"Hermione," he called out to her, never once taking his eyes off the ghastly figure.

"I think I know what to do…"

**(xxx)**

Lord Voldemort could feel the hot white energy fill him up. His whole body was rising and rising, growing more and more powerful with every passing second.

"_All the power in the certainty, _

_All the ancient magic I have thus known,_" he chanted repeatedly, "_I command you to your abandon throne,_

_And join the forces of the dark_…"

"I need more power!" he shouted to his deatheaters, "give me _more power_!!"

The energy swirled faster and faster around him, concentrating in his core.

He knew that his time had come when he began to feel only power. Power in his veins. Power in his blood.

His possession of the stone was almost complete…every bit of magic from the stone surrendered itself into his hands.

White streaks of energy began to flash across the sky. The gods of war and destruction rose from their throne and sent shards of lightning down to the earth.

It struck the ground heavily, bursting with light and sound. The aurors skipped in their places to avoid the harsh lighting bolts, but the deatheaters staying true to their master, remained stationery with bowed heads, devoting themselves to the purpose of the stone.

Lightning from all around struck the dark figure in the sky, but the electric field around him defied its entry, making it bounce back into the clouds.

Suddenly, there was a loud roar in the clouds.

Dumbledore and his aurors looked up to find that the swirl in the clouds was slowly disappearing and the darkness in them began to lighten to a pale grey with x-rays of thunder cracking through them.

Lightning which struck the field of energy around Voldemort merged with it instead of bouncing back.

Voldemort opened his eyes and observed the stone in his hand, it was glowing red. He saw his reflection on its surface, pale and white, inhuman, except for his livid eyes.

His image smirked back at him, then, disappeared.

Voldemort didn't understand. The lightning was penetrating through his field. He commanded it to stop and strike the ground instead.

His red eyes began to grow wide with anger and confusion as the orb of energy around him vanished into the air.

"Something's wrong! It's not working! He snarled.

**(xxx)**

"Get ready," communicated Dumbledore to the minds of the aurors. This method of communication was most efficient and safe in case of passing such information. It was sort of like telepathy and helped to link himself to the minds of wizards all around the world at any time.

He fumbled for his wand behind him.

"Get ready to bring down the Dark Lord," he said, "hold your wand straight, for you are getting back your stolen magic. Remember the reason you are fighting for and utter a single curse of utmost power and he will be done…."

**(xxx)**

The stone burnt red hot in the Dark Lord's hands, glowing in such a strong blaze, it looked like a piece of hell cupped in his hands. The heat scathed his flesh, burning and searing it.

"What is this madness?" he cried as his hands caught flame. He lashed it around frantically and turned towards Dumbledore, "_is this your plan_?!"

"It was _never _my plan to watch you die like this," replied Dumbledore, raising his wand.

Voldemort's face was livid with fury. He felt the energy drain from him and was reduced to a mere form in the sky, devoid of life and true spirit. Then, he realized, he didn't exist without power.

"Finally…you got your chance?" he asked, surprised at the weakness in his voice.

"Yes I did," said Dumbledore, "and I'm afraid the flame of fire you hold in your hand will never suit a darker purpose…"

Voldemort dropped the stone from his hands and watched it fall to the ground, still glowing bright red. "No…you tricked me…"

"_Now_!!" shouted Dumbledore.

Jets of green light erupted from all around the cul-de-sac.

"Harry! Take the stone and throw it to me!!" commanded Dumbledore.

Harry made a quick dive from his fighting spot and grabbed the stone and threw it at Dumbledore, who caught it and chanted,

"_All the power in the certainty, _

_All the ancient magic I have thus known, _

_I command you to your abandon throne,_

_And join the forces of the good_…"

He then, got to his feet, looked piercingly at the dark figure and shouted out the single curse of permanent death.

**(xxx)**

Draco could feel himself crumble inside. Nevertheless, he canalized every bit of hatred into his wand and forced it out in the direction of the unearthly form.

_Come on, you miserable wormy traitor! Die! Die! Die!_

The streak of light from his wand was so pure, it was white, not green. White with hatred, he didn't know, but it was like the glittering sky he was under when he'd seen the grim back out in the forest. White and sparkling.

Beside him, Hermione was fighting too, her wand held so tight, her knuckles were devoid of colour. The steady, determined expression said it all. She was fighting for her loved ones, and nothing was bringing her down!

With every new spell being uttered, Draco could feel himself lose life little by little.

The power of good was immense, he now understood. It was capable of washing over even the foulest of creatures and the darkest of men and redeeming them. It was capable of fighting off any hell written down in fate, any hell that blazed inside the human conscience, any hell that rested in the hands of the world's darkest sorcerer.

He believed in the power of good.

The jet of light from his wand brightened like the sun in the early morning, blinding him and everything else in its pathway. It shrouded the darkness of the night with pure light and washed over the entire sky…

"Draco…"

He just heard her voice, only her voice, and he was propelled to a stratum of faith he didn't even know existed.

"You're going _down_, my Lord!"

And he shouted the single most powerful curse he knew…

The clouds rumbled a deafening crack; hell opened its gates under the earth, and the Dark Lord descended into its burning furnace, vaporizing in form and spirit.

And with a loud clap of thunder, the gates closed forever…

The wand dropped from Draco's hands, and he fell motionless onto the ground.

"Draco, no-!" screamed Hermione, reaching for him. Her hand grabbed thin air.

**(xxx)**

Rain began to pellet down from the sky, thunder echoed in the distance. The lights from the wands vanished and the winds died.

Hermione kneeled down next to him in the rain, tears trickling down her face.

Her heart suddenly felt like it was being wrenched out of her rib cage.

"Draco?" she called out.

He was dead, and she couldn't do anything about it. He was really dead. As dead as every force of dark magic out there…

Her eyes trailed down his face, down his eyes, down his pale, frozen lips… and unable to control herself, she put her hands around him and brought him into an embrace.

"I – I-"

She struggled for words.

Then, she realized, she didn't need words. He may have known it already….

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**A/N:**** I have no idea how many hearts I've broken by killing draco in this chapter, but I'm really really sorry. I know it won't give u much relief now that he's….u know….dead, but let me just tell u, it broke my heart too. When I reached the part where I had to kill him, my heart was just being wrenched out of my body and I could feel – like – physical pain!**

**I'm really sorry again. Please don't boycott my story as there's one more chapter remaining. And that chapter may just end up being what u've always hoped for.**

**Luv u, thanks for reviewing!**

**-elixirgurl**

**Next chapter: funeral march? **


	9. Blue Morning

**A/N:**** two months I've kept you guys waiting… Now its time I laid it out in front of you – the final chapter of Curtain Call :- **_**Blue Morning**_**…**

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_Her eyes trailed down his face, down his eyes, down his pale, frozen lips… and unable to control herself, she put her hands around him and brought him into an embrace._

"_I – I-"_

_She struggled for words._

_Then, she realized, she didn't need words. He may have known it already…._

Chapter-9: Blue Morning

Shrieks and claps filled the morning air. Celebrations were going on in full swing. Fireworks burst into the inky blue sky, spraying the town with dazzle and glitter. The aurors congratulated each other on the accomplishment of so fine a task.

Harry and the Weasley brothers were engaged in a strange sort of victory dance when Dumbledore came to them, looking grave, sober and unnaturally tired.

"Harry, Ron," he motioned them out of the madness and spoke to them in a low tone, "I'm afraid we're not finished…"

Harry's happy expression faded. He exchanged glances with Ron and asked, "What do you mean, professor?"

Dumbledore looked from Ron's eyes to Harry's and sighed.

"Come," he said, "there's something I've got to show you…"

They walked away from the throngs of celebrating aurors into an alleyway and took a short cut through the houses.

The rain shower had washed the air squeaky clean, allowing them to see for real the extent of devastation.

Wrecked houses, broken posts, fallen trees…muggle bodies lay muddied on pavements and roadsides.

Harry looked up at the sky that was still rumbling slowly. The thick layer of clouds were lightening. Cold, misty fog appeared to be descending onto the land.

It was a blue morning, the kind of mornings witnessed on top of high peaks, where hours of day received no sunlight and no warmth.

Fog rolled through their legs and chilled their bodies. Behind them, sounds of celebration and merriment could be heard.

They crossed a street – a street strangely familiar to Harry. He broke off from Ron and Dumbledore and trotted through the houses. He could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him.

Through the rolling mist, he could make out a crouched figure in black robes beside a broken fence. It was silent and unmoving…

He turned back to Dumbledore who nodded.

"Don't tell me…" he mouthed and shot off to the figure.

"Hermione!" he shouted and the figure moved.

He rushed towards her and put his arms around her shoulders.

He could hear her sobbing.

"Hermione, what -"

He caught sight of Draco's body lying still in front of her. "Oh."

"I couldn't do _anything_," said Hermione through tears. She crept into Harry's warm embrace and rested her head on his shoulders, blowing her nose. Her head hurt from the strain of trying to keep Draco's image out of her mind.

"-and he-he was one of us. He was fighting with us, not with the deatheaters…and yet…"

Harry patted her shoulders. "I know," he said, trying to comfort her. "I know…"

"He was supposed to be celebrating with us, he was supposed to be enjoying this moment of freedom!"

"Maybe he is, Hermione."

Ron came up behind them. He saw the body and gasped, "oh Merlin!"

"He's not - _you know_-?" he asked to Harry, who rolled his eyes and returned to consoling his friend.

Dumbledore came down on his knees beside Hermione and observed the body. "You really think he's gone, don't you, Miss Granger?" he asked her, earning him a teary stare from Hermione.

He took Draco's wrists in his. The limpness in it caused her skin to tingle.

"Somehow, I don't think so," said Dumbledore, feeling the wrist

"Huh?" said Ron.

Harry watched the professor place the wrist across Draco's abdomen. His expression was firmly sober, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that could not be ignored.

**(xxx)**

The early morning sunshine blazed into the room, filling it with warmth and light.

Draco twisted underneath the white sheets and stretched himself awake.

He breathed in deeply, listening to the air rushing into his nostrils and stared up at the wooden boarded ceiling, suddenly struck by a frightening thought-

_Why am I breathing? I'm supposed to be dead, right? _

He sat up straight with his hands at the side for support and looked around. He was in a homely looking carpeted bedroom with high windows and paneled walls. Sunlight blazed in through the glass, shrouding the room with light. A mirror at the corner dresser was snoring sleepily.

He rolled over and was about to start investigating his new circumstance when the door opened and Hermione came in, carrying a tray loaded with things that looked like medicine bottles, lotions, tea cups and breakfast.

"Good morning," she said with a smile.

Draco could never put in words how relieving it was to see her. His heart just seemed to deflate.

He breathed out a sigh and watched her silently.

"What?" she asked, her smile fading, quickly replaced by a smirk.

Draco stared at her long and hard.

"Where am I?" he asked her.

"The Order, of course! This is Mrs. Black's old bedroom," replied Hermione, depositing the tray on the dresser. She popped open a bottle of pills and emptied it into a glass, counting them carefully. The bright sunlight played against her cheeks, making them glow a healthy rose glow.

_God, do you have any idea how good it feels to hear your voice again, Hermione?_ Draco wanted to ask.

He sighed again.

"And I'm supposed to be dead right?" he asked as if wanting to clear the doubt.

Hermione shot him a stern look, acting as if he'd just said a swearword.

"Honestly, Malfoy…"

Draco scowled and looked about the room.

Just then, the door opened and Dumbledore along with Mrs.Weasley and Tonks. Draco and Hermione, both turned to the visitors.

At the sight of Dumbledore, Draco's heart skipped a beat.

He didn't want a talk with him early in the morning. It would just make him feel like a scrawny bad egg by the end of the day. But he did want to know what he was doing here, alive and breathing.

He looked at the man as if he was a bug on the wall and scowled further.

Dumbledore smiled and uttered a pleased greeting.

"How're you feeling today, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Okay, I guess," Draco answered. "What day is it?"

"Tuesday," said Dumbledore, seating himself on a stool beside the bed.

"And I've been unconscious for like, how long?"

"Two days," said Tonks.

"And what exactly am I doing here?" cut in Draco, rather annoyed. "I mean, I'm supposed to be dead, right?"

"Well, you _are_ supposed to be dead," nodded Dumbledore.

"But as you can all see, I am very much alive-"

"Well, Malfoy," said Tonks, "it is rather strange for anyone being Lord Voldemort's supporter and in-depth follower to have survived his fall and you are the only one known to have surpassed destined death."

"Want to know why?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco shrugged. _Hit me_, he thought.

"The good inside you helped you to surpass death," said Dumbledore.

_Oh yeah! Now, they're going to start feeding me crap about virtue and goodness and love…_

"But I'm a deatheater. I was supposed to die," said Draco.

He thought he saw a spoon clink to the ground and Hermione bend down to pick it.

"But you were _not meant to be_ a deatheater and you were _not_ _meant to die_," said Dumbledore. "You were never a real true supporter of Lord Voldemort."

Draco pressed his lips together and scowled, "I don't get it," he told them.

"If you want proof, maybe you should look at your arm," he motioned to his arm, "Is there a Dark Mark branded into your skin?"

Draco looked at all their faces, unsure about whether to proceed with his action. He shook his head and began to lift up his sleeve.

_Wait a sec…_

"It's gone," he said incredulously. "It's really gone!"

He looked towards Dumbledore, a faint smile forming on his lips. "-And I'm still living, means-"

"It was not meant for you," completed Dumbledore. "If you had been a real deatheater, you would have died with Voldemort's fall and the mark would have disappeared after you had left your last breath. Here you are, very much alive without the Dark Mark. Shows a lot, doesn't it?"

Draco half-laughed with relief. He could see that Hermione was smiling too.

"You fought for the good side, Draco," explained Dumbledore, "you believed in the power of good and this belief carried you through the doors of fate, fighting every thing that stood in its way. The light from your wand, the single beam of sparkling light was the spirit of a soul so pure, it was the final element we needed to bring down the empire of Voldemort!"

"Cool…" he said slowly. "I mean, _yeah_…"

"You were on the brink of realizing just how much power there was in you. True power."

Draco blinked, unable to believe his ears. He'd never thought of himself as a virtuous person, least to say, a person with some kind of faith. And here, he had one of the world's greatest sorcerers contradict him!

It was a moment worth remembering for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short it was..

But still, something bothered him…

"Does this mean I'm not a deatheater anymore?" he asked, the question popping into his mind out of nowhere. "I mean, now that I don't have the Dark Mark and all…I'm not on Hisside right?"

"Even when you had the Dark Mark on, Draco, you were never really a deatheater," said Dumbledore with a satisfied smile,

Draco received a spoonful of gooey medicine and continued, "And what happened to the stone?"

"The stone has been destroyed," said Tonks, "after its _right _possessor possessed it and used its energy for its destined purpose, it was reduced to mere glass. It's with the ministry now, gone for testing…testing for what I don't know-"

"But what _really _happened when the Dark Lord tried to possess it?" he asked, turning to Dumbledore. "Why didn't it work?"

"Ah, _that_," Dumbledore was smiling broadly now. "-that worked exactly according to one of Miss Granger's brilliant theories!"

Draco raised his eyebrows at Hermione. "Did it?" he asked smirking.

"Yes, it did," said Hermione, blushing slightly. She leaned against the dresser and told him, "Don't you remember me telling you that Voldemort trying to possess the stone might not work as they were opposite sources of power? It was something like that. The purpose of the stone was pure and Voldemort trying to take over its powers didn't work as he had the wrong purpose in mind. The effect was countered and we were able to get back our magic."

"It gave us a moment to collect ourselves. It gave you a moment to decide how you want to die," said Dumbledore.

"You made the right choice, Draco," said Tonks, leaning in. "you shared his powers, but chose to fight him down instead of die with him in molten hell."

"It made the whole deal of difference," nodded Hermione.

Draco looked at all their faces. It felt strange to have them all favour him so much. But then, he felt unworthy of it.

He was sure he'd never be able to get over his past. He was sure his past would keep on haunting him, and no matter what he did and where he went, no matter what he could accomplish, the horrible truth that he was once a deatheater would still linger by his side.

Draco shifted in bed and looked around the room. "Great…" he said to himself. "Just great."

"Now, the reason why I came here today…"said Dumbledore, rising from the stool and straightening his robes.

He took an envelope from Mrs. Weasleys hands and gave it to Draco. "Your fathers will, Draco."

He looked keenly into Draco's eyes and watched him take the envelope. "I'm very sorry to hear about Lucius-"

"Don't be," cut in Draco before he could finish his sentence. "Oh, look! He's left me the _manor!_ The pile of _rubble_! Heard about Snape?"

This time, it was Draco's turn to watch the professor closely.

Dumbledore's expression flickered. Draco would have sworn he'd seen sadness and fawning disappointment in them.

"Ah," sighed Dumbledore, "it was most unfortunate to have someone as skilled as him play traitor to the Order…he deserved what he got…"

But Draco was sure he didn't mean it. Dumbledore trusted Snape and whether they were on opposite sides or not, he would have never wanted Snape dead.

Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "You'll get well soon," he said, "Molly's been treating your head injury for quite some time and I'm sure her medicines will make a difference."

Draco nodded, looking at Mrs. Weasley. For once, she seemed to smile back and Draco felt good about it.

After they left, Hermione came up to the bed and sat down at the side.

"Arthur's suffering a head injury too," she said, "he was hit over the head and it's caused a lot of bleeding and damage to the skull."

"It's not serious, is it?"

"Memory loss, inability to recognize things…Mrs. Weasley is in pieces. Ginny's in a rather bad shape too."

Draco shrugged and curled back into the pillow. "Must be a hard time they're having," he said with a pout.

Hermione took in a deep breath and stared down at her hands.

"Not just them. Dumbledore's really upset about Snape and all," she said, tracing the lines on her palm, "Harry's blaming himself for Ginny's multiple fractures. And the muggles…"

She stopped suddenly, swallowing hard.

"We tried our best to repair the houses and all. We've talked to Fudge, to the mayor-"

"But that doesn't change the fact that all of them are _dead_, right?"

"Yeah…don't remind me. It's painful enough just thinking about them."

Draco understood how she'd be feeling. "What about your parents?"

"They're okay," said Hermione.

She then looked at him curiously for a second and asked, "Whatever made you think of them?"

"Dunno," he replied, "guess it just rolled in when you were talking about the muggles…"

His words put a small smile on her face. She had never in a thousand years expected him to ask about her parents!! After all, they were _muggles_ without even a trace of magical blood in them. Why would he even care to ask about them? Anyway, it made her happy to know that he had thought about them.

In the silence that followed, Draco observed the shards of light coming in through the window glass, suddenly feeling tired and rather blue. He breathed a sigh, thinking of how things had got to this point of recovery in his life.

The journey had been quite an incredible one, starting from joining the Order to making the escape, to surrendering himself to the Dark Lord, to redemption…It simmered down to one burning question. "Where do we go from now?"

Hermione startled and looked at him. "What?" she asked.

"Where do we go from this point?" he repeated.

He was talking about _them_. He and Hermione. And the meaning didn't wear out on her either.

He really hated the soulful look on her face when she so often gave his way. It was the one she was giving him now and it made him feel so vulnerable to emotional changes.

"I-I guess we go our separate ways," she said, peering at the will in his hand. "Do our _own things_…now that Voldemorts gone."

Draco felt his throat go dry. Nevertheless, he nodded and placing aside the will, smirked.

"Guess that means you'll be pairing back up with Potter, huh?" he asked. "Just like old times?"

"Yeah," she said with a sly smile, "_just_ like old times."

She left the room shortly after administering him the medicines and reminding him of his breakfast.

Draco clenched his fists and banged it against the side of the dresser.

_Damn!_ Why was he so angry! She just told him that things would be back to normal and that she'd be living her own free life! What was wrong in that? Draco tried to assure himself that she was a smart, talented which who'd be just as comfortable with life after war as he would be and that she was doing a perfectly wise thing by choosing her own path, yet still… he was worried about how she was going to do that away from him, especially after they'd spent so much time together and even saved each others life and all.

Queer thought, he admitted. Very queer.

He was thinking too much and it was taking a toll on his brain. He needed to rest!

Yet when he lay down, head in his hands and staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think: what would his life be without Hermione?

She was the soft warmth that crept beneath him every time he went out there looking for death, the fighting force that fought beside him during the war. She believed in him, right from her Hogwarts days and even came through the forest to save his life! He could never _ever_ repay her for that!

He wanted to go back and relive the adventure with her, even if it involved risking his life again….

**(xxx)**

The sunlight streaming in was blocked by the shadow of a figure stretched throughout the hallway. Harry walked carefully across the plush carpet trying not to disturb the figure in deep daydream. He stood behind her for sometime, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's glare and looking out at the backyard.

He then seated himself on the doorstep next to her, hands over his knees.

"What're you thinking about?"

Hermione turned to him, a bit startled. "Nothing," she answered, moving a few strands of hair from her face. "You?"

"Um, _me_…well, don't I have a lot to think about!" he said with a laugh. "…well, I – I was sort of thinking about _Ginny_."

"She's getting better isn't she?"

"Yeah…"

Hermione smiled and looked away.

Harry followed her gaze across the rooftops to the yellow clouds in the sky. "I remember that time when you and Malfoy came on the phoenix," he was saying. "You won't believe how happy I was to see you then!"

"Did you think I had gone off to the Circle headquarters to _die_?" said Hermione with a hint of sarcasm.

"I actually thought you did," said Harry, a flicker of a smile playing across his face.

"And what made you think otherwise?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. But watching you come down like that on the gliding phoenix - I'll never forget it…"

"You didn't care if I was with your sworn enemy?" asked Hermione, keeping a watchful eye on him.

"I didn't. The only thing that mattered was that you were safe, and – and _he_ was with you, _big_ deal really!"

Hermione laughed.

They sat in silence for a while, starting out at the evening sky. Birds soared towards the setting sun, their crackles echoing far through the clouds.

"Hey, have you thought about what to do now that Voldemort's gone?" asked Hermione, folding her hands against her knees and bringing them to her chest.

"Guess I'll try for the quidditch teams once the bans are lifted."

"Why don't you try for the ministry?"

"The _ministry_?!"

"Yeah. They'll offer you a great position! Maybe even Minister of Magic!"

"You've got to be kidding! The ministry is the last place I'd want to join after the war! what, with the horrible articles and the partial support they'd given to Voldemort…I suppose you're going to be writing a book about your wild adventure with Draco after this, right?" he asked with a smirk.

Hermione glared at him playfully, then laughed. "You call that crazy?" she asked.

"Yeah, I call that crazy. So come on, made any plans?"

"Well…I was thinking about taking up independent research study. Especially about geographically unplottable places and stuff. Or maybe just teach at Hogwarts once they rebuild it."

Harry sighed at the mention of his old school, memories of dangerous adventures filling his mind. God, how he missed those days! Thinking about it along with the present situation only made his heart twist with nostalgia.

"We should call for a reunion at Hogwarts!" he said out of the blue. "And everyone's going to come and - and Dumbledore's going to be there-"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the idea. What reunion was he possibly expecting it to be with half of the population of the school under the soil and in hospital wings!

Nevertheless, she nodded, a small smile on her face, thinking of only how magical a reunion it would be if something like that would happen…

**(xxx)**

It was the last dinner before parting. The kitchen was filled with redheads running in all four directions preparing the table for a night of merriment. The smoke of burnt pork (Bill's pursuit) and roasted salmon chips hung in the air.

Crookshangs had found a rodent to chase and was busily sniffing the ground for its trail. Fred, who was too busy overseeing his tray of canary muffins, didn't see the cat rolling in front and got his legs locked with its plump body, and - down he went, canary muffins and all…

Ginny was sitting at the table, shaking one leg and watching the course of evening take shape. She was feeling considerably better now, though the side of her chest still hurt while breathing.

Harry kept coming in and asking her if she was in need of anything.

"I'm okay," she'd say.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

That was how their conversation went every time he opened his mouth.

The monotony in it got her so frustrated at times, she could have sworn that had her hand not been fractured, she'd have ripped apart the stuffed pig on the table to vent her feelings.

Dinner awaited a small surprise for the household: Arthur had recollected two scattered memories - and that was all the cause needed for the Weasley family to really celebrate!

It was nine by the time the party started. Aurors, Kingsley and Mad-Eye got terribly drunk and whipped up the night with a strange cheering dance. Fred and George exploded snaps and tiny fireworks near the kitchen window, setting the steak meals on fire.

Harry and Ginny were talking at a corner and Dumbledore was nodding his head to the music being played.

Hermione wondered where Draco was amidst the moving robed bodies. The room was rather crowded and steamy, since all the aurors and Order heads were present, it was difficult to get past the witches and wizards without getting a poke in the eye or some form of physical blows from their wild celebration dance.

Somewhere along the lines of looking for him and keeping a watchful eye on the dancing bodies, someone hooked her by the arm and pulled her into the throng of people.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!-HEY!" she cried, feeling herself being twirled around. She freed herself from the arm and tried to regain balance, standing straight up on the floor.

The piper music played louder and louder.

Hands holding up glasses of foaming butter beer and fire whisky roamed through the air. The floor was pounding with the weight of so many bodies jumping to the merry Scottish tune.

Hermione, rubbing at her wrist, squeezed her way out of the crowd to the door, which upon reaching, she promptly opened and escaped through.

It was a_ relief_ to get away from the heat and light for some time. The smell of stew disappeared from her nose and she could now breathe in fresh air.

The hall was deserted and dark, except for the light from the party coming in through the crack in the door. She looked around the room, squinting her eyes so that she could see in the dim moonlight.

A figure was standing by the window, staring out into the night. His silky blonde hair revealed in the moonlight was enough to make Hermione recognize the person.

"And _why_ aren't _you _at the party?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

Draco looked over his shoulders, his silver eyes glinting in the dim light. He checked out her form and returned to window.

Angered by his unresponsiveness, she walked up to him and looked out the window.

"_What're_ you looking at anyway?"

The street outside was empty, lights from a few new houses lighted the road. Except that, all was dark and dreary looking.

"I see nothing there, do you?"

Draco rubbed his hands together, smirking slyly. "There's a really pretty girl out there."

He watched her peer out the window, craning her neck left and right.

"Were you talking about the hag?" she asked sarcastically.

"No, I _wasn't _talking about the hag," sang Draco, his smirk growing wider.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, suspecting he was playing about something. She folded up her hands in front and pressed her lips tightly together.

"Who're you talking about? You betters tell me quick!" she asked demandingly, "If you're won't, I-I'd rather go back and enjoy the party. It'll be a much better use of my time then waiting around for some mystery girl to show up on the street and steal your hear-"

"_Hey_, there she is now-!"

Draco pointed to a girl with a blonde ponytail dressed in casual jeans walking down the road. "See, she's my mystery girl."

Hermione looked out the window and drew back suddenly. "_That's_ your mystery girl?!" she asked disinterestedly.

"Well, yeah…" shrugged Draco. "She's even waving at me-!"

Hermione uttered a sound that resembled a feline purring and glared at him, so angry that she had been proved wrong. Her cheeks grew pink. In her state of confusion and partial jealousy, she forgot that the muggle girl could not see him or the Order and gave into scorn unthinkingly.

"Somehow I thought you'd settle for someone with more _class_, not some stupid girl-next-door who doesn't even have the wits of a _dung beetle_," she said smartly, ignoring his surprised look.

She was about to turn around and stomp away angrily when she suddenly felt him garb hold of her arm.

"-and why is that getting to you?" he asked teasingly from behind.

Hermione turned to face him, her cheeks heating up with an apparent flush. "It's not getting to me. _Hell_, why should it?"

But somewhere inside, she knew she was lying. It _was _getting to her for some unknown reason and she was starting to feel angry towards Draco.

Draco titled his head, staring her in the eye.

_God, he was bold!_ She thought, twisting her arm.

"It really doesn't matter," she said to assure herself.

Draco smirked slyly and let go of her arm.

"So, why aren't you at the party?" he asked her. "If I'm correct, there's the whole auror community in there. _You've _got to be enjoying yourself!"

Hermione placed her hands on the windowsill and drew herself to the frame, looking outside.

"Well, being with the auror bunch in a steamy room filled with butter beer isn't_ exactly_ the most enjoyable thing to do, especially when you're not the one who's into Scottish piper music and dance…I suppose a wild adventure in the hills of the Czars would be a far more enjoyable alternative than to spend the night in drunk and drowsy company."

"You're _seriously_ saying that?" asked Draco laughing sarcastically.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Yes, I was _serious_ about that! Why does it amuse you so much?"

"No, I mean – _sure_! It will be fun! we'll take a phoenix ride to the hills right now, probably chat with some mountain trolls, battle a couple of dragons, drink of mystic rivers, find some rare stones and be the possessors of the universe and then, come out half-dead and beaten! Yeah, it'll be _fun_!"

"Oh, don't mock me!" cried Hermione, shoving his arm playfully.

Draco cut short his laugher and took in a deep breath. He was more serious when he talked the next time.

"So, you really want to go on another adventure?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded, her eyes traveling the inky blue sky.

Draco could see the beauty of the stars reflect in them.

"To the Czars?"

"To the _Sahara_," smirked Hermione.

"Say we'll go there someday!" she gushed on, unconscious of his gaze upon her. "And we'll ride camels through the desert and spy rattlesnakes and eat from date trees and…"

She kept on listing out the fantasies she'd love to live in the barren African desert.

Draco brushed a hand through his hair, listening to the sound of her voice and the enthusiasm that bubbled out of her words. _God, she was amazing_, he thought with a smirk. _How did such a vibrant girl ever end up as Hogwarts nerd child?_

Looking at her sideways, he noticed the glow on her face resulting from the moonlight and the sparkle in her eyes, signifying the never-ending limits of imagination and phantasmal thought. She kept on tilting her head in various directions, giving into her narration with gusto. Her small mouth kept moving ceaselessly, forming words that sounded like a blur to Draco.

She stopped when she noticed him gaze at her with abounding admiration and rapture.

"Oh, you weren't listening were you? Did I bore you or anything…?"

"Not technically," said Draco.

She laughed and acted like she was set to stage another speech, when she suddenly felt his hand warm on hers. She looked up to see him watching her in a kind of daze.

"We'll go there sometime," he said, "and I'll burn my back before I come and get you…"

He winked, patting her hands. "Trust me, I will."

Hermione grinned and turned towards the window.

She could still feel Draco's cool grey eyes on her and was suddenly aware of his hands on hers.

The same thing seemed to flash into Draco's mind and he withdrew his hands from hers slowly and pushed them into the pockets of his robe, blushing slightly.

Hermione's smile disappeared, and she moved a few stray strands of hair blown across her face by the wind.

"Um, Draco?"

"Um hmm?"

"There's something I haven't told you that I think is really quite important to us…"

Draco raised his eyes from the road and looked at her.

"See, I really haven't had the chance to thank you for saving my life," she said, avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry for all the trouble it caused, especially with your father and all. I know it was a really rough ride for you, especially with your deatheater status – you knew that death was certain if you'd made the escape with me and yet you …you shouldn't have escaped that night…"

"Why?"

"Because it cost you a lot, Draco… just look around you! You've got no one to turn to…"

"I've got _you_."

Hermione's breath got caught in her throat. She met his gaze for a brief moment, then looked away, feeling her heart pound like drums in her chest, and said, "Don't say that, Draco. You'll be leaving tomorrow and – and I feel like you've lost your whole family because of _me_! Just imagine how different things would have been if you hadn't got me out that night!"

Draco took a step forward and turned her face to his. "Whatever happened, it was not because of you, Hermione," he said, looking into her deep, dark, starry eyes. "You know my life has these sorts of things all the time it's a part of _my_ life."

She turned away from him, suddenly feeling terribly blue.

Draco put down his hand and sighed.

"I know my father's just trying to play with your mind. I remember his words clearly. Hermione…"

He turned her around by the shoulders and made him face her.

"Listen," he said, looking into her starry eyes. "What's gone is gone. Lucius may have said things that played with your head, but that's what he does, okay? He plays with words. But he's dead alright? - And I'm okay. There's no point in getting upset. And just look, the smartest witch of the centaury is tearing up over something some dangling buffoon said - now just how crazy is _that_?!"

Draco, for the first time in his life, realized that he was comforting someone, that too, someone he'd never thought would need his consolation. It made him feel strong somehow, and to have her leaning on his words gave him bottom grip from nowhere.

"If you have, in _any_ way, lost _anything _because of me, I'm really sorry for it," said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders timidly.

"I guess I just didn't know where I was-I mean, the last few weeks have been – _quite_ an adventure…"

"I haven't lost _anything _because of you, okay?" asked Draco, putting a little more pressure on his grip. He shook her by the shoulders and gave her a grin. "Now, come on! I can't show you off in the Sahara with tearstains all over your face! What will the locals _say_?!"

He handed her a handkerchief.

Hermione sniffed, taking it from his hand, feeling horribly down and put off. She didn't know why Lucius's words had gotten to her in such a manner, and she couldn't believe that it had made her upset in front of Draco! But there was truth in Lucius's words: had he not rescued her, his life would have never been in danger and he'd still be having his father…

And the worst part of it was that because of Lucius's words, she couldn't even thank Draco properly for saving her life…

Dabbing her cheeks, Hermione folded the handkerchief and handed it back to Draco.

"Won't you be attending the party?" she asked, surprised at how different her voice sounded after she'd cried.

It sounded like she'd swallowed a muffler.

"No, maybe not," he said.

"Well, I'll be in my room if you need anything."

Draco nodded and moved aside so that she could pass. Once she disappeared up the stairs, he turned to the window and rested his forehead in his hands, wondering just what had gone wrong in a moment so fine.

**(xxx)**

Dawn had just broken over the land, shading the houses and streets with a faint grey hue.

Draco sat at the corner of his bed, listening to trees whisper in the cold wind. His trunk and bags lay packed beside him, arranged one on top of the other, piled up against the bed.

_So, this is it, Draco. You're going to start a new life._

He'd planned it: first, he'd have to attend to some legal issues pending in the name of him and his father. God alone knows _what _awaited him at the ministry! He could barely try to imagine all the firings he'd be receiving from Fudge and he wondered if he could handle the suspicion of the ministry officials!

Then, he'd have to restore the manor, sort out some family affairs and look for some form of occupation.

He was considering doing business with the left over of Lucius's partners or start something of his own. Whatever he was going to do, it would have to be in par with the circumstances and ministerial restrictions.

Draco raised his eyes to the mirror in front. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in it, he sighed. Morning blues showed on his face, but more than just mood swings and quaint irritants, what brought about the blues were the thoughts of having to leave the company of a certain brown-eyed, brown-haired witch.

Sure, he'd thought of life without her. after all, it was inevitable that he's have to take his own separate path…but now, especially after last night, things were somewhat starting to clear up between them and their relationship was on some kind of _definite platform_. They were almost friends, no denying it.

They shared a kind of trust that differed from everybody else's. it was there, as a base. He could feel it in the way she looked at him.

And he felt that to an extent, she needed him.

So, when he'd brought down his bags and was standing in the entrance lobby, ready to bid goodbye to the Order, he couldn't help but break inside when he saw her. she'd come down the stairs to see him off and was standing on the step behind Mad-Eye.

Her face betrayed no clear expression, held up so tight, not even a smile could break through. Yet, in her eyes, he could see all the hopes she was having for him.

He smirked at her, and ignoring the weight of emotion hanging down in his throat, turned and opened the door.

**(xxx)**

Harry was looking at Hermione oddly. His glances kept flitting between her and the door.

"er-he just left, you know…" he said, pointing a thumb in the direction of the door.

Hermione's eyes were brimming.

She looked at Harry and back at the door.

The moment seemed surreal to her: the door was blurring before for eyes, the pale sunlight through the windows brightened and dimmed in the room.

She took in a sharp breath and remained gazing at the door.

Harry shook his head, confused about what to do and was bout to turn back and head for the living room when there was sudden movement behind him.

He heard an irritant cry, followed by the click of a door and out went Hermione.

**(xxx)**

"Draco, _wait_!"

He stopped instantly in steps, closing his eyes and rejoicing in the sound of her voice. He turned around to see her coming down the steps of Order, holding up her robe. The minute she stepped down, she rushed to him, a smile marking her features.

The cool, early morning breeze heated up her cheeks and as she slowed down near him, the flush darkened.

She stopped abruptly before him and took in a deep breath.

"Isn't there something you'd like to say to me?" she asked with a smirk.

Draco tilted his head, and looked at her with surprise. "What makes you think so?"

"Oh, I just know…believe me…"

"Oh, well…"

She looked at him with eyes so full of soul and expectation, Draco couldn't help but roll his own. He then raised them to high heaven and stared into her face.

"Thanks for believing in me so much, Hermione…"

Draco watched her face change. Her bright eyes seemed to be sparkling and the smile upon her lips outstretched its corners.

Hermione felt her heart brim and overflow with joy and before she knew it, she'd pulled him into a hug and was hanging onto his shoulders.

"Er-"

Draco started, unsure of what to do.

_Just put your hands around her, you bumbling idiot! Just put your hands…_

But his very hands seemed to have gone numb and he stood there like an issueless stick for a while.

Then, very slowly, very _deliberately_, he raised his hand and patted her shoulders.

The sky turned a shade of light yellow, with sunlight dispersed all over the clouds. The sun had come up in its full splendour like a pale orange ball at the horizon.

Draco held her for what seemed to be the longest time.

He didn't know what he was thinking, but it _felt _right to be with her like this, as if it had been decided by fates that they'd fit with each other in such a strange and unique way.

The curls of her hair felt soft and silky in his hands and when she moved back, it slipped through his fingers like silk.

"We'll be seeing each other soon, won't we?" she asked, stepping back.

"I guess so," he answered with a slight scowl. He was quite unsure about how 'soon' they'd be getting to see each other again – he'd be rather busy with the ministry legislations and stuff. but still, he had some kind of firm faith that said that they would be seeing each other again, whether it would be just by chance or on purpose -

"And we're friends, right?"

She extended him her hand.

Draco stared down at it as if it were a big ugly snake and tried to control his tongue which was going astray with words.

_Friends?_ He thought. _She actually takes me for a friend?_

He shook her hand, forcing out a smile onto his face.

"Yeah, we're friends…"

He looked at the House of Black behind her, its huge dark form turning grey with the oncoming sunlight.

"I should probably get going," he said, looking back at her and feeling his heart sink. "The trains going to be leaving soon."

Hermione nodded slowly and stepped back. "Yeah. You're going to Hogsmeade first, aren't you? You'll get to see Hogwarts and all…"

Her expression betrayed her sadness and she was becoming increasingly aware of her mood going down.

She didn't want to say goodbye to him! She didn't want to watch him leave! She wanted to spend more time with him, as a friend, and as _something_ more…she didn't know.

Yet, this was the chosen time and he had to go…

A wavering smile broke over her face as she last looked into his grey, silvery eyes.

"Take care, okay?"

Her voice was overflowing with sadness and she deliberately trying to fight back tears from showing in her eyes.

Draco gave her a brief smile and got ready to resume his walk to the port key. But before that, he did something he never expected himself to do: he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

When he drew back, he could see the startled expression on her face quickly being overshadowed by a crimson blush.

"Yeah, I needed that," said Hermione, carefully trying to avoid looking at Draco, who was smirking broadly now.

To be honest, she felt like laughing. Laughing at herself, for saying such a stupid thing. For feeling so stupidly foolish. And for not being able to deny this stupid foolishness. Anyways, it didn't matter: She felt the happiest she was in years!!

Draco leaned in and whispered, "Goodbye."

Hermione closed her eyes, breathing out a sigh.

"Goodbye, Draco," she said.

When she opened them again, Draco was at the mailbox.

_God, he's going! He's really going!_

Hermione folded up her hands and watched him cross the street.

"Bye," she said more to herself, in attempt to cover for a sigh.

Then, suddenly, as if he'd just heard her, he turned back and winked in her direction.

The End

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**A/N:-** **there you go! The End! Did you ever think I'd kill off my fav character in my own fic?! Never! Draco Malfoy is my heartbeat and killing him is suicide.**

**I'd like to thank everyone whos taken time to read and review for my fic. Thank you so much for your support in making CC a success! Its only because of you readers and the passion we share for d/h that I'm here, still writing and believing.**

**Lots and Lots of love,**

**elixirgurl**

**P.S:-Who wants a sequel?!!**

**P.S2:- everyone do check out "ShadowBall" – my latest work!**


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